


Fractured Hearts

by MajiLovePrincess



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bisexuality, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/M, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Loneliness, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Polyamory, Present Tense, Queer Themes, Referenced Past Relationships, Romance, Sex Work, Sexual Agency, Slow Burn, Threesome - F/M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28839231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajiLovePrincess/pseuds/MajiLovePrincess
Summary: Haruka finds herself in the red-light district needing to know if that man was right about her. Is she really as broken as he said?Under the alias Hayato, grad-student and musician Tokiya moonlights as an escort. His latest client is intriguing, but still no threat the to agency’s strict ‘no love’ rule.Back in the country after four years, Ren is the common thread that forces each of them to confront things they don’t want to know about themselves.
Relationships: Ichinose Tokiya/Jinguuji Ren, Ichinose Tokiya/Jinguuji Ren/Nanami Haruka, Ichinose Tokiya/Nanami Haruka, Jinguuji Ren/Nanami Haruka, Nanami Haruka & Shibuya Tomochika
Comments: 35
Kudos: 32





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [venagrey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/venagrey/gifts).



> This is the longest story I’ve written in quite some time. It’s certainly the fastest I’ve written a story of this length.
> 
> This story is part of an exchange for Venagrey who requested a winter-themed story with either a meet-cute or a not-yet-established relationship between Haruka and anyone. I decided to do both. 
> 
> The plot ran wild, and this story got super long! The story is complete; I’m proof-reading the later chapters, so I’ll be posting chapters on a Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule until all 12 are up. 
> 
> This is also to give me time to finish the accompanying artwork I have sketched to go with some scenes. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Please be sure to comment.

Haruka rests her cheek against the window. She stares blankly past the city sprawling around her. Her distant expression belies a thrumming anxiety beneath the surface. Her mind is spinning faster than the tires of the bus that carries her.

What is she doing?

Just because she is lonely— is hurt—, is she really going to do this?

She has to know, she rationalizes as the streets grow smaller and the alleys grow darker beyond the window. She has to know if he was right. She has to know.

Before she can change her mind, Haruka pulls the signal for the bus stop. As she steps into the balmy August night, she pulls her bag tighter to her body and makes her way to the heart of the red-light district. 

...

Tokiya chugs his bottle of water after settling his accounts for the day. Three clients in one evening has left him worn. He only works two nights for a reason.

As he is gathering his things, he hears the bell chime by the front door. He checks his watch. If someone is here for their appointment, they are either very early or very late. 

Or, more interestingly, they might be someone new.

“Why, hello there!” Tokiya cringes a little at Reiji’s over-the-top tone. “Oh.” Reiji pauses. When he speaks again, Tokiya can hear the panty-dropping grin painted across the man’s face. “What a pretty guest we have tonight.”

Curious, Tokiya makes his way to the edge of the staff door. Eavesdropping is not usually on his list of hobbies, but something in Reiji’s tone makes him wonder. Flattery is their job, but Reiji sounds earnest, even to Tokiya’s trained ears.

“I-I’m sorry to trouble you,” says a soft, wobbly voice.

Reiji chuckles. “Did you have an appointment?”

“Appointment?”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no.’” Tokiya sees Reiji lean against the counter. “Is this your first time here, little miss?”

Tokiya finally gets his first look at the woman when she takes a few, tiny steps forward.

Tokiya is caught off guard. She really is pretty, just not in the way he expects. Unlike a model, she carries a sort of understated beauty. The kind that may not turn heads on the street, but the kind that makes you think that maybe the world isn’t such an ugly place, after all. It is precisely the sort of beauty that makes him wonder what she is doing here.

Unbidden, Tokiya wonders if her hair is as silky as it looks under the warm track lights. 

“Y-yes... I’m terribly sorry... I don’t know how any of this works.”

Reiji laughs. “No need to be sorry. We’ll take care of you.” Reiji gives her his trademark wink. “Trust in Rei-chan, here.”

Tokiya watches the woman step closer. She is clearly on edge. He would wager she has never set foot in the district before, let alone this place. 

“So what are you into, cutie?” Reiji asks, leaning his chin on his hands.

“Into?” Her head tilts innocently and Tokiya wonders once more what has brought her here, of all places. She could easily go to any bar and find a dozen men who would be happy to warm her bed free of charge.

Reiji nods at her query. “BDSM? Roleplay? Femdom? I’d be happy to let you top.”

“Wh-what!?” Her cheeks immediately turn as pink as her hair, and Tokiya feels a twinge of pity for this lost kitten who has wandered in. 

“Knowing your kinks helps us match you with a good escort,” Reiji explains as he points to the list of employee aliases on the counter. 

She waves her hands frantically. “I-I’m not into anything like that, I think.”

Now that is an interesting addendum, Tokiya notes. 

“So what brings you here?” Reiji wonders. “What magic should we work on you tonight?”

She looks up from the list of escorts. Her eyes, though still showing nervousness, hold an emotion Tokiya can’t quite place. “I need to find something out,” she admits quietly, but firmly. 

“Well I’d be—“

Tokiya, pulled by Fate’s marionette strings, steps into the room and cuts off Reiji. “I’ll take you.”

Reiji and the woman startle. 

Her head whips toward him. Her mouth opens and closes, but no sound escapes. It’s a cute fish impression, he thinks dully.

“Aw, Haya, you meanie,” Reiji grumbles.

“I’m free,” Tokiya says. “You have a client soon.”

Reiji sighs, deflating against the counter. “That’s true.”

With that settled, Tokiya turns back to the woman. She is rather petite, he realizes once he gets closer. He stops a few feet away so he can meet her eye without looking down on her. He bows to her and extends a hand. “It would be my pleasure to accompany you tonight, Miss.”

Hesitantly, she puts her hand in his. “I don’t know how any of this works,” she murmurs. 

“Not to worry.” He guides her around Reiji toward the back of the establishment. He stops in front of the office. “In there, Ai will explain it to you. The rules, the payment, all of that.” Tokiya squeezes her hand. “And when it’s done, I’ll be waiting right here.”

She glances between the office door and Tokiya. 

He brings her hand to his lips, placing a chaste kiss to her soft skin. “There is no pressure for you to stay. You can still walk out the door the way you came and let this be nothing more than a moment of curiosity.” He smiles charmingly in the way that always makes his clients feel weak in the knees. “I won’t hold it against you.” He winks.

She shakes her head, and her rosy hair bounces against her shoulders. “I need to know.” 

For a second, he thinks he can see rain clouds gathering in her eyes. Just as soon, the storm recedes. 

He squeezes her hand once more before letting go. “Then I am at your service, tonight.”

“Thank you Mr.—?”

“You may call me Hayato.”

She gives a short bow. “Pleased to meet you.”

He stifles a laugh at the formality. They’re about to be getting very intimate, but her etiquette is charming.

“I’m Nan—“

He quiets her with a finger to her lips. “First rule,” he explains gently. “We don’t use our real names.”

She blinks up at him, and he leans down to kiss her cheek. He is a salesman, after all. “Now,” he breathes against her ear, “I’ll be waiting when you’re ready.”

A minute later, when she is ensconced in the walls of Ai’s office, Tokiya leans against the window with his head tipped back to look at the ceiling.

“What are you playing at, Haya?”

Tokiya glances at Reiji from the corner of his eye.

Reiji continues. “It’s not like you to take on an extra client, especially when you were done for the night.”

“She doesn’t belong here,” Tokiya says softly.

“Does anyone?” Reiji counters with a pointed look.

Tokiya glares. “You know what I mean.”

Reiji sighs. “She’s an unusual one to find here, that’s true.” His lips quirk in a half-smile. “Those types usually have their own reasons. I was gonna find out what they were until you stole her away,” Reiji finishes with a pout.

Tokiya rolls his eyes. “You’ll get over it.”

“Ah, what a cold junior I have,” Reiji whines, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Don’t you have to get ready for that scary-looking guy you were telling me about.”

Reiji chuckles. “He’s actually rather adorable in bed. You should hear the moans I can get out of him.”

“I’ll pass. Threesomes are more your thing.”

Reiji sobers for a moment, turning back from the edge of the room. “Hayato,” he says. 

“Hm?”

“Remember the number one taboo here.”

Tokiya rolls his eyes. “I’ve been here for two years. I think I know not to fall in love with the clients.” He shakes his head. “She’s cute, I’ll admit that, but that rule is hardly a concern.”

Reiji doesn’t look convinced. “Just...careful with that girl.”

...

Fifteen minutes later, Haruka finds herself upstairs with the tall, dark-haired man who called himself Hayato.

“Tell me,” he says softly, taking both her hands in his. “What can I do for you? What brought you here?”

Haruka swallows. She needs this. She needs to know. Still, putting words to her plight— even if it isn’t the whole story— sends a stone of shame to the bottom of her stomach. “I...” She pauses, licks her lips, and tries again. “I’ve never o-orgasmed before,” she admits oh-so quietly. 

She can’t look anywhere but the floor as she says it. She certainly can’t look into the pale blue eyes of this handsome stranger. 

She expects laughter. Perhaps pity. 

What she doesn’t expect is for his hands to squeeze hers gently. “There’s nothing inherently wrong with that,” he says. His voice is silky, and it soothes her jagged edges like a balm. “An orgasm is not always easy to achieve. Depending on the person, it can be just as much an emotional experience as it is physical.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and cups her cheek. “Though, if it’s what you wish, I’ll do my best to bring you that pleasure.”

Haruka nods. Her cheeks are burning, but she feels lighter. “Please.”

She watches as Hayato glides over to the edge of the room. He takes a moment to adjust something she cannot see, and then soft jazz music is filling the room.

When he returns to her, his eyes seem a few shades darker. Haruka feels the gravity of them as he steps behind her and rests his hand at the zipper of her dress.

“What name did Ai give you?” Hayato asks, nuzzling against her neck.

Haruka stiffens a little at his proximity and familiarity. She feels a pulse of shame, knowing that her parents would be furious with her if they ever found out that she was willingly doing this. They’re already so disappointed in her. “M-Muse,” she stammers. 

His laugh is like dark chocolate, sweet, but laced with something deeper. 

“Well, I’m sure Ai already went over this, but if you are ever uncomfortable, all you have to do is ask me to stop. Your pleasure is my goal.”

“Understood,” she whispers back. 

“When we’re in this room, I need you to trust me,” he murmurs. “Can you do that?”

She nods.

“Good,” he breathes, making her shiver as his warm exhale fans across her neck.

His nimble fingers tug down the zipper of her dress.

Haruka shimmies out of the sleeves and then lets the fabric fall to her feet. Her arms wrap around her waist. She already feels naked.

One of her hands instinctively tries to hide the scar on her chest. She can tell by the pause that Hayato has seen it too. 

Haruka holds her breath, waiting for the inevitable questions. The questions that are usually preceded by her date partner changing their mind.

They never come tonight.

Instead, Hayato steps in front of her, his eyes flicker over her body, and a smile curves his lips. “You are lovely,” he tells her as he takes her hands in his and slowly draws them away from her chest.

Haruka bites her lip and looks up at him. She still feels naked. “C-can I take your shirt off?”

He nods and places her hands at the edge of his shirt. “My body is yours to explore.”

With trembling fingers, she takes the hem of the soft fabric and tugs upward. Hayato is kind enough to duck down so she can pull it off.

Haruka bites her lip again as her eyes rake over his lean muscles. Is she really going through with this? 

She shakes her head. She needs to know. She needs to know this about her body.

“Will you k-kiss me?” she blurts. She immediately wants to hide behind her hands. What is she? Fourteen? 

Hayato is a professional, she remembers when he cups her face in his hand and leans closer. “Of course,” he soothes, and then his warm, soft lips are against hers.

At first, Haruka does not know what to do with herself. Her mind goes blank. How did she kiss that man? Why can’t she get her mouth to move now? 

Hayato is patient and forgiving as she slowly eases into the kiss. Her hands trace his muscles, and he shivers. She does not know if the moans he makes are genuine, but for now she’ll let herself believe they are.

“That’s it,” he whispers against her ear when they part for air. “Show me what you want.” He strokes her cheek. “I will take care of you.”

Haruka knows these words are for show, but tonight she needs them.

“Please,” she whispers, and then their lips are crashing back together and Hayato is laying her back on the bed.

He unwraps her, the way she imagines one unwraps a present. It’s hard not to compare everything to before. It’s hard to focus on Hayato’s slim hands when her mind begs to remember the broad ones that used to hold her close. Slowly, Hayato caresses her. Haruka drags herself to shore before she can drown in her bittersweet past.

When he tugs down her plain, cotton underwear, her thighs press together. He waits, remaining patient and gentle, until she bares herself to him. 

He kisses her neck, her shoulders, and her breasts before sucking gently on one hardened nipple.

Haruka shivers, stifling a small moan.

It’s been so long since she’s been touched like this. Her body fears and craves the contact with every beat of the heart in her chest.

He grazes the edge of his teeth over one nipple. “Ahn...” Her body presses up into his touch. She feels his smile against her skin. 

One of Hayato’s hands massages her breast while the other traces the jut of her hip bone.

“May I?” he asks against her cleavage as his hand cups her gently, nestled in the curls between her legs.

Haruka knows she can still stop this. She can still back out.

She doesn’t want to.

“Please,” she breathes, as she gives her body to him.

...

It’s 3:23am when Tokiya glances at the clock and groans. 

It’s been hours, and for all his fitful attempts at sleep, his brain will not stop replaying his time with his last client. 

Muse, Ai had dubbed her.

Tokiya drags his hands down his face as her moans echo in his ears. She had an unfairly pretty voice. Especially when she was clutching the sheets and gasping for more. The softness of her voice combined with the breathy melody of her moans to weave a dangerous song.

Glancing at his tenting boxers, Tokiya curses under his breath and kicks off the sheets.

As stupid as the professional side of his brain realizes this is, Muse still fascinates Tokiya. Small and shy and almost painfully earnest, she is not the usual customer to dip into the red light district. 

Her attire— a modest, high-necked dress and tights— makes him think she might be an office worker. Tokiya gets his fair share of those, but most of them are older men. He suspects many of them are married, and he tries not to think about it as he services them. He feels a pang, realizing that he does not know that Muse is any different. Her fingers were bare, but that does not mean she is single.

Still, Muse is young— mid twenties if he had to fathom a guess— and he cannot believe someone like her would commit adultery. 

It is unusual to get women under 30 at the Shining Agency. Odder still to get one who is so vanilla. Most people who come to an escort service are trying something that they feel is taboo in some way— exploring their sexuality, trying out kinks, and so forth.

It’s refreshing to serve someone like Muse. 

He does not know, as he pads toward his bathroom, if he will see Muse again. For her sake, he almost hopes not. He hopes she finds a nice partner who will show her the love he suspects she is missing.

A selfish part of him enjoys the way she had clung to him, the way she cried his alias, and the way her body moved so well with his. And, of course, money is always welcome.

Carnal attraction aside, Tokiya reluctantly acknowledges the dangerous desire to know more about her. He thinks back to their time together as he washes his face with frigid water.

Muse had been gasping, her hands twisting the sheets as he ate her out. His tongue swept across her clit, and she moaned, high and sweet. 

He could feel her body coiling as his latex-wrapped finger slipped in and out of her core. 

Her hips had rocked against his tongue, keeping perfect time.

“Mmm! Hah!” He glanced up at her, watching her teeth sink into her bottom lip. “I— I’m—!”

He felt as much as saw her climax. He watched her back arch. He heard her sharp inhale. He felt her body tremble under his hands. He tasted her on his tongue, wet and heady like aged wine.

He had felt the shift in the air. It was already a warm August night, but with her riding out her orgasm against his mouth, he’d felt like a match, dragged against a flint. He had wanted more of her. His earlier exhaustion had seemed like a dream.

As her body shivered with the aftershocks, she had thrown an arm over her face. 

It was only when he’d seen the way her chest shook that he’d realized she was crying. It had come as a bucket of water, extinguishing his libido.

“Muse?” He had sat up and reached for her other hand. “What is it?”

“I’m not,” she’d choked out.

“Not?” His brows furrowed in concern. 

“Not broken,” she had whispered, still hiding her flushed face.

Unsure, Tokiya had stayed silent. Now, he almost wishes he’d asked. Why had she felt broken until he had pleased her? Clearly someone had made her feel that way. Was it her, or was it another?

He wishes that he had provided her with some comfort, but her words had thrown him off his game.

When the sobs had subsided into rather adorable hiccups, she’d looked at him with watery eyes. “Thank you, Hayato. Thank you.”

Tokiya knows that his cheeks had darkened when she’d said it. He was rarely thanked for his work, let alone so honestly. 

He stares into his bathroom mirror, but all he sees is Muse. He sees her calloused hands clutching the sheets as he drives her over the edge. He hears her grateful tears from her first orgasm. He feels her body, those soft thighs wrapped around his hips, her breasts pressed to his chest, and the raised edge of her scar flush against his sternum. 

Her scar...

Tokiya sighs and lowers his head to the counter. He is torn for a minute whether to solve the problem of his hard-on with his hand or with the sleeping pills he has in the cabinet. He doesn’t fancy a cold shower this late at night. Especially not when he has classes later. 

Muse satisfied her curiosity. He will never see her again, he tells himself. 

Tokiya reaches for the sleeping pills. Insomnia will not best him tonight.


	2. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruka mulls over her feelings about the night she shared with Hayato.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter, transitional chapter to give more insight to Haruka. I hope you enjoy!

Two weeks later, Haruka is poking at a tomato in her salad and drowning in her thoughts as she ignores whatever it is her colleagues are chatting about. She hears the term ‘return on investment’ tossed around more than she can bear during their short break.

Since her night with Hayato, she has started to feel more at home in her skin. The tiniest baby steps, of course. She still feels a far cry from sexy, but now she knows that she is not, and has never been, broken.

With the help and coaxing of her fearless roommate, she’d purchased a body wand and started masturbating with mixed results.

“About fucking time,” Tomochika had teased when they got home, much to Haruka’s eternal mortification. 

She’d felt bad enough asking someone to accompany her to the sex shop, but Tomochika is the best resource she has available. Knowing that Tomochika is often in the adjacent bedroom, though, has a tendency to dampen the mood, regardless of how sex-positive the redhead is.

Still, even though she is learning her own body, curiosity now picks at the edges of her brain. Haruka can’t stop thinking about that night. What else can Hayato do with those hands? That tongue? That— Haruka splutters and chokes on her water.

The chatter at the lunch table turns from interest rates into a chorus of, “Are you alright?”

Haruka shifts, rubbing her thighs together when the coughing subsides. 

“I’m fine,” she assures with a final wheeze.

When the chatter picks up again, Haruka is horrified. She should not be this— this wet on her lunch break! And, unfortunately, the water has nothing to do with it. She’s glad her pencil skirt today is black, just in case. 

She pats her cheeks, picks her fork up again, and resumes eating. She is not going to think about Hayato again. Not at all.

As the work day draws to a close, one of the other bank tellers takes her aside near the staff room. A lead blanket drops across her stomach, and dread kicks in. ‘Not again,’ she prays to no avail.

“Nanami-san,” Suzushima begins, his tongue sliding out to wet his chapped lips. “I, uh, can only guess that things have been rough since—“ he pauses, and they both wince.

“Yes,” Haruka agrees quickly, hoping he won’t mention the subject by name.

The young man shifts, and his eyes, she notes with resignation, are centered on her clothed bust rather than her face. “Anyway, I think it’s been long enough that I can tell you I’ve had my eye on you for a while.” His eyes finally make their way to her face. “Your work is always done so well, and you brighten the department. Would you like to join me for dinner tonight? I know a nice restaurant at the Residential Hotel.”

Haruka hates this. This is the second proposition she’s received this week. She’s always struggled with turning people— almost always older men— down. The fact that her colleagues are starting to do it now that she’s been single “long enough,” makes her want to flee. 

Forcing a smile onto her face, Haruka laughs. It’s the kind of fake laugh that escapes whenever someone tells an uncomfortable joke. “I’m sorry, Suzushima-kun” she says. “My roommate and I already have plans tonight.” Haruka mentally reaches for the lines she has practiced with Tomochika. “I’m usually not available for dinner, but perhaps we can get coffee. I’d love to discuss the changing interest rates we’re seeing related to the Olympics.”

Suzushima blinks at her, his mouth caught open like a carp. 

Haruka knows her words have been carefully neutral, but she can see him piecing together her rejection.

Before his fractured pride can crumble, Suzushima offers her a stiff nod. “Understood. I’ll... uh, I’ll email you then, sometime.”

Haruka beams at him, relieved by her victory. “I look forward to our continued work together.” She bows, and after he bows to her, they part ways.

When she steps outside, the air smells warm and sweet. 

She fishes out her phone and sees a new selfie from Tomochika, who is currently in Hokkaido for an autumn photoshoot.

Haruka traces the fire-painted leaves on the tiny screen. 

She sends off a quick string of appreciative emojis and returns to her thoughts.

It really has been a long time. She suspects that her supervisor has been holding her coworkers at bay until now. With the promotion, Haruka supposes she is on her own.

Haruka sighs as her feet carry her across the pavement. 

It would be easy to spend a night with any one of the single men at her branch. Tomochika had even suggested it early on. 

Haruka refuses, and she knows she will continue to hold that line. Not a single one of them wants to know anything about her. They see her bust size start thinking with the wrong head. 

It’s infuriating and demeaning.

Plus, there’s the amount of times she’s been mistaken for a secretary instead of a presenter. It tests even her deep well of patience. 

Alone for the night, she stops at her favorite Thai restaurant, trying to drown her feelings in peanut-flavored noodles. It’s an unsuccessful endeavor.

Soon enough, Haruka steps onto the bus. She knows where this line leads, but she hasn’t admitted it to herself just yet. Her chest aches, and she feels the vines of loneliness winding and growing around her ribcage. 

Unbidden, her mind returns to Hayato. He had not looked away from her scars, both physical and mental. 

She craves that— something devoid of familiarity. Someone who doesn’t know what she’s endured. She needs this purely transactional relief, she rationalizes. This business is purer, better, than getting mixed up with a colleague, with whom things will inevitably fail. 

The heat pooling between her legs only grows when she sees the red lanterns come into view over the bustling streets. 

She still feels foolish as the September wind whips her hair around her face with every step. She doesn’t have an appointment. She doesn’t even know when Hayato works. She doesn’t know anything; the need to see and feel him again blocks out reason.

When she reaches the grand, arched doorway of the Shining Agency, she takes a breath and steels herself. 

Her hand pulls the heavy door open. The bell chimes overhead.

She stops in the entryway.

Hayato is standing at the counter. His sweater is cut low enough that she can see the hint of his lean form beneath the black fabric. Her mouth goes dry.

He glances up at her over the edge of a thick book. A pair of black reading glasses are perched on his nose.

They blink at each other for a long moment. Haruka wonders if she looks as surprised as he does.

After a beat, his surprise morphs into a handsome grin that goes straight to her panties.

“Welcome back,” he purrs.


	3. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruka and Tokiya reflect on their growing attraction to the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big feelings time in this chapter.

That second night becomes a third, then a fourth, then an appointment. Thursday nights become an event that Haruka loves and agonizes over in equal measure.

Is her outfit alright? Her makeup? Does it matter? None of this is real.

She knows that the little hiccuping heartbeat whenever she sees the dimple cut into his sharp cheeks warns of danger. She knows that the look he gives her over the edge of his reading glasses will spell disaster. 

She stands at the edge of a cliff, and her mind cautions her to step back, to retreat to safety and let this waking dream end. The traitorous heart thumping in her chest feels the call to the void. She wants to take that step. She wants to fall. She wants too much from him.

She thinks back to Ai, the bookkeeper. “The number one rule of this agency is that you must not fall in love with your escort.” His cold eyes had been bored, but Haruka could hear the warning. “If you express your affections, you will not be allowed to see them again. Understood?”

At the time, it had been easy to agree.

So there she stands, staring into the void as Hayato slowly burns out the name of that man. 

As the days and weeks bleed into months, Haruka continues to reject the men at work. She’s merely trading one disaster for another.

She is surrounded by rumors at work. Smiles to her face and vicious whispers at her back. She hears whispers that call her heartless. She shrugs their words off as best she can. It hits too close to home. 

Nothing else erases the loneliness she feels on the nights when Tomochika is away. 

On their nights together, she and Hayato grow more comfortable together, able to predict each other’s bodies on instinct. The sensation of it as he leans into her touch and moans across her skin makes her feel almost drunk.

Most nights, she ends with her head resting on his chest as he runs his fingers through her hair. It’s a moment of fantasy. A small consolation. She misses the casual intimacy she used to know. 

The afterglow never lasts long enough, but it is yet another price that Haruka pays as she makes her way home each time.

When she can’t wait between appointments, and her fingers wander beneath her skirts, it’s his name she moans. “Hayato,” she gasps as the wand drives her toward release. “Please,” she moans for her empty room. 

She pictures his grin. She feels his hands on her body, mapping every curve. 

She goes weeks without thinking of the man who came before. 

As the season shifts earnestly into fall, the layers they have to strip each other of begin to grow. Sweaters, knit, and leggings replace lighter fabrics and bare skin.

When Haruka sees him the week of Halloween, Hayato is dressed in velvet and leather. Apparently, he explains, the president of the agency is big into costumes and special events.

“Who could resist taking a bite of such a delectable woman,” he says with that wink. His dimple flashes, and Haruka swoons.

She can’t help giggling, despite the punny pick-up line.

Once in the room, he nibbles at her neck with false fangs, and she lets herself get lost in the feeling of his fingers curling so perfectly inside of her.

When she sits atop his hips that night, head tipped back and moans escaping both of their lips with every bounce, she can’t help but wish she did not have to leave.

...

Tokiya dreads Thursday nights. He craves them, too. 

Muse comes to— and for, the juvenile part of his brain offers— him like clockwork. 

His other clients begin to fade into the background. They are a routine, a motion that he goes through with smiles, low moans, and well-placed praise.

Muse is bad for his health and his insomnia.

It’s been almost three months since their first night together. His disastrous sleep schedule has only worsened as thoughts of Muse keep him awake and hard at the worst times. 

More than once, he catches himself sketching her soft face in the margins of his notes during lectures. Her round cheeks and expressive eyes. The way her tongue pokes out when she’s thinking. The blush that spreads across the faint freckles on her nose and shoulders. 

He pauses on the street when he passes a flower shop. The yellow camellias on display match her eyes. 

Tokiya scoffs at himself. He can’t buy flowers for a client. Not even a very cute one. 

He’s never dealt with an attraction this stubborn. Not since... no. Tokiya shakes himself. That was never meant to be more than a friendship. His heart begins to protest, but he silences it with the same ferocity he has for a decade. 

When he gets home, he walks to his overflowing bookshelves. He can’t help the incredulous laugh that rakes against his throat as he stares at the entry in his flower encyclopedia. Those soft golden camellia petals signify longing. Fitting. 

That night, he takes another sleeping pill. He refuses to think about her when he masturbates. 

One November night, as he and Muse sip wine and kiss on the edge of the deep purple sheets, they each push a little too far.

“Tell me about yourself,” she pleads as he sucks gently at her neck. He has figured out that her neck and shoulder blades are erogenous zones. He takes pride in every hitch of her breath as he teases.

He can feel the tremble of her breath beneath his lips. 

“What do you want to know?” Tokiya asks, stifling the flash of unease that grips his stomach.

Her eyes are closed, but he can see them moving from the nervous twitch of her eyelids. She swallows. “Anything...” she decides after a long pause. “I don’t know what is safe for you to tell me.”

He takes the glass from her hands and sets it on the bedside table. 

Muse blinks at him, her glittering eyes drifting open slowly. He thinks again of those damned yellow camellias.

She squeaks when she realizes how close his face is.

Tokiya enjoys how her blush deepens the red flush that already stains her cheeks from the alcohol. He leans over her, forcing her to lie back against the pillows. 

“I’ll tell you something if I get to ask a question in return, so decide what you want to know. I’ll be as honest with you as I can.” This is a dangerous game. Maybe it’s the wine, but he feels reckless enough to play.

Her bottom lip is cleaved by her teeth. She considers his offer and nods. “Okay.”

Tokiya cradles her cheek in one hand and steals her lips. His heart aches with every touch, but he has gotten rather good at ignoring it over time.

When they part, she traces his lips with the pad of one calloused finger. He nips at her fingertip with a little grin.

Her giggles are his reward.

“Hayato,” she murmurs, splaying her hands against his bare chest. He feels struck by how wrong the alias sounds in her mouth these days. He wants to tell her his real name, but he won’t. “What did you want to be when you were little?”

Tokiya feels the astonished laugh slip from his mouth. “That one I can answer honestly. Either an idol or a librarian.”

Her eyes crinkle with her smile. “Those are very different careers.”

“I love books,” he explains. “And I love to sing.”

“What do you sing?” Muse asks, tracing little patterns on his skin.

“Ah-ah,” he scolds with a smile. “I believe it is my turn now to ask a question.” Her pout is so cute that he concedes with a sigh. “But I sing everything. Pop, jazz, ballads, English songs, opera. I just love to sing.”

Muse laughs. “Well, you do have a lovely voice.”

“I am flattered.” He takes one of her hands from his chest and turns it over so he can stroke her palm. “Tell me something, now. What are your callouses from?”

Muse looks down at their hands as he traces little patterns. “Piano,” she says. Her smile grows wistful. “I would have loved to be a composer.”

“What stopped you?” Tokiya asks, kissing each fingertip. 

“What stopped you from being an idol?” she counters.

“My parents,” Tokiya says without pause. He then arches a brow and waits to see if she answers him back.

Muse shifts. Her hand goes to the scar above her left breast. He instantly regrets asking when he sees the pain flash behind her eyes. “My health.”

There is a long pause, and for once, Tokiya does not know how to fix the tense silence. As a professional, he feels inadequate. As a man, he burns with curiosity.

Finally, he reaches for the scar that cuts across the top of her soft breast. He meets her eye, asking permission silently. She holds his gaze, nodding once, but her teeth continue to worry her lip.

Slowly, so slowly, he runs a finger across the raised pink line. He knows from research that the scar means some kind of heart surgery. “Are you better now?” He needs to know.

He wonders if she can hear the fear in his voice. 

Muse pulls him into a deep kiss, wrapping her legs around his hips. “Yes,” she breathes against his lips. “Much.”

It’s the last thing either of them say for some time. Words are traded for gasps and moans when Tokiya hooks her legs over his shoulders and sinks into her deep and hard the way she likes it.

When they share lazy kisses toward the end of their time, Tokiya definitely does not imagine what it would be like to wake up next to this woman. He does not wonder what it would be like to sit on the wooden bench in his apartment and play a duet with her on his old upright piano. 

No. He’s not a foolish man. 

He shakes himself of the daydreams and bids her goodbye with a final kiss.

He refuses to let his heart be swayed.


	4. Downpour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren enters the equation.

Haruka finds herself rushing home from a business dinner. There’s an unseasonably heavy rainstorm brewing, and she does not fancy being caught in the downpour. 

The day had started beautifully. A cool autumn breeze whipped up the leaves on her morning commute. It was neither too hot nor too cold for all the families headed to shrines for Shichi-Go-San celebrations. Besides, it always warmed Haruka to see all the tiny, determined children wearing traditional formalwear for the day.

Work had been standard: loans, consultations, exchange rate changes. The stream of propositions had slowed to a trickle. She didn’t even have to reject anyone today. 

Dinner is where things had started to go downhill. 

She sighs, drawing her bag closer as the subway approaches her section of town.

One of the higher-level executives had dropped in unexpectedly, and to make matters worse, he had been so dismissive of her presentation. 

The subway speakers announce her stop, and Haruka clutches the cool, metal bar as the train slows and halts. 

She steps off and heads straight for the stairs until her phone chimes. She steps out of the flow of traffic to check it. 

It’s Tomochika. She warns Haruka that the downpour has already claimed their apartment complex.

Haruka frowns. “Ah, what should I do?” She did not bring an umbrella with her this far removed from rainy season. 

She resolves to duck into the closest store and buy one. 

The sound of rain bounces down the subway tunnel, and she deflates further. She knows there is no cover once she reaches the top of the stairs. 

As she climbs, she is so distracted by her umbrella worries that she fails to notice the water dripping from the tunnel ceiling. 

Her shoe connects with the little puddle on the stairs, and Haruka slides.

A startled shriek escapes her, and her hands flounder for the railing as her center of gravity pulls in what is decidedly the wrong direction.

Her eyes scrunch closed as she braces for impact.

The impact comes, but rather than concrete, she feels fabric and a pair of strong arms. A breathless chuckle follows, though Haruka knows in a flash it’s not hers.

“Falling for me already?” a suave voice teases. Haruka’s cheeks burn. Do people actually say such cheesy lines!?

Haruka blinks up at the man, realizing, as she takes stock of her body, that he caught her.

Her eyes meet his, and even in the dim subway fluorescents, she can tell they are a deep blue. She sees the humor twinkling in his eyes, and a little grin tilts his full lips.

When Haruka remembers herself, she jumps upright and bows. “I’m so sorry! And thank you, so much!”

The man laughs again. “No worries. It was my pleasure to catch such a cute lady.” 

Normally such flirtatious words would put Haruka on edge, but this man simply smiles and continues up the stairs, leaving Haruka to gape. Is he a foreigner? She didn’t notice an accent.

She chases after him, though now she watches the steps for water, too.

“Um... really, thank you very much,” she says when she catches up to the tall stranger.

They reach the top of the stairs, and Haruka freezes when she sees the sheets of rain pounding the world a few steps outside their shelter. 

The rest of the commuters have left under the cover of their umbrellas and raincoats.

The tall man turns back, appraising her. “Your face tells me you don’t have an umbrella, do you?”

Haruka blinks. “No. But I’ll be fine. I don’t live far.”

His laugh warms her in spite of the November chill. “I don’t think anyone would be fine in this frigid rain.” He shows her the large, rose-patterned umbrella still folded at his side. “Which direction do you live in?”

“East,” she says pointing. “About three blocks that way.”

He gives her a grin. “I live that way, too.” He bows, like a European knight. “Care to share my umbrella, Lady?”

Haruka is about to refuse when the thunder growls overhead, and she jumps. 

The stranger looks at her with a cocky half-smile. His eyes glitter like polished sapphires that dare her to take a closer look. 

She hesitates. “Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?”

“It would be my pleasure.” He pops the umbrella open and holds an arm out to her.

Haruka steps close enough for them both to fit underneath the printed roses. 

“I’m Haruka,” she introduces. “Nanami Haruka.”

He glances down at her, and his grin softens into a smile. “Ren,” he offers. “Jinguji Ren.”

So he is Japanese, after all. Curious.

Haruka hooks her arms through his, and, together, they step into the downpour.

...

“Yo! You look depressed as hell,” Syo announces as he folds his umbrella and plops into the barstool next to Tokiya.

Tokiya schools his traitorous expression in an instant. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Syo rolls his eyes. “Dude, I’ve known you since high school. You can’t lie to me.” Syo flags down the bartender and tries to order a beer.

Tokiya finally laughs when Syo has to pull out his ID and prove he’s of drinking age.

“Oy!” Syo punches his shoulder as soon as the bartender leaves. “How dare you laugh at me. I came all this way to see you, jerk.”

Stirring his cocktail, Tokiya grins. “Sorry.”

“Now, tell me what’s up.”

This time, Tokiya knows his face doesn’t betray him. “Is he really back in town?”

Syo snorts, waving his thanks when the bartender returns with his beer. “Yes, dumbass, your best friend is back in town. Go talk to him yourself.” 

Tokiya watches Syo sip the foam frothing at the top of the glass. “There’s something else,” he admits.

With a sidelong glance, Syo’s attention is back on him. Tokiya squirms.

“You know my side job...”

“As a body for hire,” Syo agrees flatly.

Tokiya resists commenting on that. Instead he focuses on his point. “There’s this woman.”

Syo sits up. “You got another offer to be someone’s ‘personal assistant?’”

“No, not at all like that.” Tokiya scowls at the sticky countertop. “She’s nothing like those women. No. She’s... well...”

Eyes going wide, Syo grips Tokiya’s shoulders. “You’re in love with her!?”

“Love is a strong word,” Tokiya hisses, knowing that his burning cheeks don’t dissuade Syo. “I find her intriguing. I want to know more about her outside of bed.”

“Dude, you’ve got it bad.”

Tokiya huffs. “I do not.” He toys with the stirrer in his drink. “Even if I did, it’s meaningless. I’m not going to break my contract because I have feelings for a client.”

Syo has reached the actual beer portion of his drink now, and he takes a long sip. The silence weighs heavily on Tokiya.

“Does she like you, too?”

Tokiya drops his head into his hands with a groan. “Maybe? I feel like she might.” He thinks of the way she laughs, like an artist splashing life on a canvas. He thinks of the breathless smile she gives whenever he kisses her strawberry-flavored lips. He thinks, then, of the way she cried that first night. “Still, I can tell she’s got her own collection of traumas.”

“So what are you gonna do?”

“Nothing, most likely,” Tokiya admits. “She and I have already talked more than we should have.”

Syo rests his cheek on his hand. “Would it be so bad for you to be honest with her about what you’re feeling? You don’t want this job forever, anyway.”

Tokiya shakes his head. “Now is not the time for me to leave. Besides, starting a relationship with someone who is paying me for pleasure sounds like a foundational nightmare.”

“Point taken.” 

Picking up the stirrer, Tokiya sinks his teeth into the cherry and chews both the fruit and his thoughts. 

“Maybe,” Syo suggests with a sly smirk, “you should go see him to get over her.”

Tokiya’s eyes narrow into a glare. “I don’t feel that way about him anymore.”

“Maybe you could again,” Syo offers with a shrug. 

With a sigh, Tokiya tips his head back. “Glad to see you’re as helpful as ever.”

Syo punches his arm, and Tokiya snickers. 

They order another round of drinks, and Tokiya pushes aside the musings of his heart.

...

Haruka glances down at the map in her hands and then up at the street sign next to her.

“Huh?” She purses her lips and turns the map over. She cross-references it with the address on the engraved metal handle. “Could I be...lost!?”

She glances up and down the street, watching the foot traffic weave around her. 

“Ah! What should I do?” She leans against the signpost in defeat. “Tomo-chan told me to find a police officer if I’m lost, but I can’t even find one of those.”

Tears prick her eyes, and she hates that fact that the first words that come to mind belong to that man. ‘How can you be so helpless?’

Just before her misery can swallow her whole, she hears a familiar voice.

“Hello there, Little Lamb, are you lost?”

Haruka whips around, and there is the very person she was seeking.

“Jinguji-san!” She puts a hand to her chest. “You startled me.”

He presses his palms together. “Sorry about that.” His apologetic face quickly shifts to eager. “I didn’t expect to bump into you again, so I was a little excited.”

Haruka shifts the strap of her tote bag. “Um, actually I came here looking for you.”

“For me?”

She nods and pulls out his umbrella. She bows as she offers it back. “Thank you very much for lending me your umbrella last week.” She glances up at him from under her eyelashes. “You didn’t catch a cold because of the rain, did you?” He had, after all, left his umbrella with her when he’d gotten an urgent call to return to work when they were halfway to her apartment.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You didn’t need to return it, but I’m happy it means I got to see you again.” 

He reaches over and brushes a fallen leaf from her rosy hair.

Blush creeps across Haruka’s cheeks.

“To answer your question,” Ren continues, “I was perfectly fine. I had my burning passion for you to keep me warm.”

Haruka squeaks and then slaps a hand over her mouth.

Ren bursts out laughing. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, cracking an eye open to glance at her. “I’m only teasing.”

She pouts, but he only laughs harder.

“Jinguji-san,” she begins when his laughter subsides, “people might get the wrong idea if you always flirt like that. You should be more careful, you know,” she scolds.

He has the decency to look chastised. “You may be right. Please excuse me. I’ve been living overseas for a few years. I haven’t re-adjusted to the etiquette here at home.”

“Overseas?” Haruka doesn’t mean to pry, but that explains a lot about this tall, flirty man.

Ren nods. “I was working at the European branch of my company.”

“Ooh! That’s amazing. How long were you overseas?”

He smiles down at her. “About four years.”

She notices a trace of sadness in his smile. “Were you there by yourself?”

He sighs. “Not the entire time, but usually.”

Haruka doesn’t know how to proceed. She can’t explain why the absence of his smile feels so wrong. All she knows is that she wants to wipe away his melancholy. “C-coffee!” she blurts.

“Hm?” 

She wrings her hands and curses her terrible social skills. “U-um...may I take you out for coffee to show my appreciation for saving me the other night?”

His lips curve up. “How forward of you, Little Lamb.”

Her blush has no chance to recede as she flails her arms. “N-no! Please don’t get the wrong impression. I just—“

He pats her head. “Still teasing,” he tells her with a wink. “I’d love to join you for coffee.” 

Haruka turns to face him as he walks past her. 

Ren cocks his head toward a market. His golden hair slips over one shoulder. “Follow me. I know a great place where we can warm up a bit and chat.”

Thoroughly flustered, Haruka places a hand over her chest. “C-coming!”


	5. Wanting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tokiya and Haruka try to avoid their emotions. Ren’s presence makes that a challenge.

Tokiya slumps at the table, eyeing his black coffee as though he cannot decide whether to drink it or curse it. 

He pushes his reading glasses on top of his head and rubs the bridge of his nose.

His Master’s thesis is coming along, but he can’t help feeling that he lost the thread somewhere in the massive word-count. He needs a break.

The campus library pulses with that quiet thread of study and community that draws so many people through its glass doors. 

Tokiya rests his cheek on the arm of his sweater as he stares out the third-story window. Christmas decorations have begun to dot the city. He knows his boss at the Agency will, undoubtedly, have costumes lined up for the occasion.

His phone buzzes on the hardwood. Tokiya squints at the screen and groans into his sleeve.

Ren’s been back in town for a few weeks now. He can see it on social media. Ren has even reached out to him via text more than once.

Now Syo is trying to goad him into answering.

Tokiya doesn’t know how to respond. He doesn’t know if he even should.

Unbidden, his thoughts return to Muse. 

This has become a routine. It seems when he’s trying not to think of one of them, the other comes to mind. Tokiya barely resists banging his head on the table.

Instead, he allows himself this selfish moment to remember last night. 

Muse had been freezing cold when she’d arrived. Tokiya had suggested they warm up together in the attached bathroom. He hadn’t been sure she’d agree.

By now, he is well versed in the movements of her body. Divesting her of the layers of knit and fleece had come easy, but he never tires of touching her. 

After rinsing off, they’d settled together into the bubble bath. 

Muse had felt so horribly right nestled in his arms. She’d tipped her head back to kiss him, giggling at the bubbles she’d managed to get on his nose.

Hands had wandered. First, he’d cupped her breasts, eliciting those breathy little moans as her nipples had hardened under his touch. Then, one hand had made its way between her legs, teasing until she was on the verge of begging. 

Muse is so responsive and so easy that he can hardly believe her first orgasm was by his hand. The way she arches and gasps against him is a religion he might gladly convert to if only he could worship her forever. 

Her body is a choir and he is the conductor. He gladly makes her sing.

Finally, when she’d turned around to kiss him properly, she’d slipped the condom on and took what she wanted.

He has learned this about her over time. She starts off shy each night. But once she’s going? She will make her demands known. 

He loves every minute of it.

Sighing, Tokiya downs the last of his coffee, pops a honey candy into his mouth, restarts his playlist, and gets back to writing. 

...

Haruka finds that Ren’s conversation is as warming as his laughter. 

On their third coffee date, she has to be careful a few times as his jokes almost make her choke on the vanilla latte she sips at. Her sides and cheeks ache from laughing so hard and so long.

Besides his humor, he’s also quite a cultured man, even outside his impeccable taste in fashion.

“So you were based in Italy? What was it like?” she asks, leaning forward across the little wooden table.

Ren chuckles. “It was gorgeous. So much art and history in every town.” He sips his espresso. “Even being there for four years, I didn’t get to see it all.”

“Well, you weren’t just sightseeing,” she says, nudging his foot with her own under the table. She means the gesture to be friendly, but heat rising to her cheeks suggests otherwise.

“True,” Ren agrees, taking another swig of coffee. His foot nudges hers back, and one corner of his lips pull up. “Though I did do plenty of that when I could.”

“Did you have a favorite destination spot?” She clears her throat.

“There was a rose garden I grew fond of,” he tells her. “They had hundreds of varieties. Big, small, pink, white, orange… I could spend a day there easily.”

Haruka giggles. “Is that why you like roses so much?” she asks, gesturing to his patterned tie.

His eyes crinkle as he gives her that commercial-ready smile. “Among other reasons.” He stares into his cup. “Roses are beautiful, but they require careful attention to flourish. And, of course, their beauty masks their thorns. It is nearly impossible to take my eyes off them.”

Haruka blushes, feeling as though, somehow, he’s talking about her. 

Ren smiles. His eyes cloud with memories the way the streets cloud with flurries of snow. “I got to be friends with the groundskeeper of the garden. He’s been taking care of the land for three decades. It’s why the gardens are as beautiful as they are now.”

Haruka clasps her hands together. “That’s amazing. I wish I could see the roses someday.” Her mind wanders, picturing herself walking beside Ren in a field of flowers. She bites back a small smile.

He grins at her over the edge of his cup. “Perhaps you could join me when I go back and visit.”

She snaps back to reality. “Oh! No, I didn't mean to make you feel obligated. I would never want to impose like that!”

Ren rests his hand over hers on the table. It’s big and warm and feels so right that it’s terrifying.

Haruka’s breath hitches when she feels the shift in the air.

“Spending time with you could never be an imposition, My Lady.” He lifts her hand and brings it to his lips. 

The touch is light, chivalrous, and absolutely thrilling. 

“J-Jinguji-san,” she stutters. She can feel the heat crawling up her neck, and the warmth of the café has nothing to do with it. 

Warmth. Her mind slips back to Hayato, remembering the way his body had curved around hers, so warm in the bath after the cold outside. She turns away.

Ren studies her. He clears his throat and places her hand back on the table. “I’m sorry. It seems I overstepped.”

Haruka shakes her head. “No, I apologize; you didn’t. I just...” She bites her lip.

“You just?” Ren is watching her with those warm eyes. 

Haruka cannot help but compare the deep blue there to the pale blue of Hayato’s eyes. 

“Things are, um, complicated.”

Ren leans back. “Oh? Oh... You’re in a relationship.”

“No! Er...not exactly.” Haruka slumps in the chair. She cannot tell him about Hayato. Not yet. Instead, she reaches for the only other truth she can offer. “I’m recently d-divorced.”

She does not know what he expected her to confess, but she can see the shock written across his face. 

Ren schools his expression quickly. “I’m sorry to hear.” He stares into his cup. His mouth opens and closes a few times. His brows furrow before he finally asks, “Was it mutual?”

Haruka winces. “No. He left me for another woman.”

When she looks up, she’s not prepared for the unmasked rage on Ren’s face.

“Jinguji-san?”

“I can’t believe anyone would do that. And to you!?” His jaw clenches, and this time Haruka is the one to reach for his hand.

“Jinguji-san,” she begins, forcing back the sting in her eyes. “I’m better off,” she confesses, finally voicing the words she has known for a long time. “Things were broken long before he walked away.”

Ren reaches up and cradles her cheek in his hand. His expression has softened. She doesn’t realize she’s crying until his thumb brushes away the tears. “I’m sorry, Little Lamb. I’m sorry you have felt such pain.”

“Thank you,” she whispers as the tears continue to escape.

Ren offers her his handkerchief and he stays with her long after the tears subside.

When they both concede that it’s time to leave the café and plunge into the winter chill, Ren stops her. “Haruka... I meant what I said earlier.” He brushes a strand of hair out of her face, tucking it into her scarf with the others. “I like spending time with you. There’s no pressure to accept, but when I was in Italy I learned how to cook.” He pauses, and Haruka notes that his cheeks are a touch pink. “May I cook dinner for you some time?”

A smile splits Haruka’s face. “Yes,” she says. “I would love that.”

Ren breaks into a goofy grin. “Thank you.”


	6. Overlap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tokiya’s worlds begin to intersect.

“Tomo-chan!” Haruka whines as she flops onto their couch, wrinkling her skirt. “I don’t know what to do.” 

It’s been about a week since Ren offered to cook for her. Tonight, he’s invited her over for dinner, and Haruka is having a crisis.

Tomochika, standing in their kitchen as she stirs the curry, arches a brow. “About which guy?”

Haruka makes a miserable noise. 

Sighing, Tomochika turns the heat to low and settles on the couch, sticking her cold feet under Haruka’s thighs and the blanket.

“Eek! So cold!” Haruka frowns at her. 

“Walk me through this, Haruka.” Tomochika reaches for Haruka’s cheeks and pats them. The gesture is simultaneously comforting and patronizing. “Start with Mystery Guy A”

“Um... Hayato, he’s the escort.”

“The hot escort you’ve had a crush on for months,” Tomochika agrees.

Haruka’s pink cheeks attempt to match her hair. “Y-yes. It’s stupid, but I feel like we really get along. He’s very gentle and thoughtful and funny.” Her blush outdoes the red of her hair. “A-and he’s very, um, good in bed,” she squeaks out.

“Good girl,” Tomochika says, patting her head. “Now Mystery Guy B.”

“Jinguji Ren,” she says, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “Also thoughtful and funny. He’s the one I’m seeing tonight.”

Tomochika hums. “And you’re going to his apartment?” She considers this, braiding her long hair as she thinks. “Things might escalate. You should have protection just in case.”

Haruka squeaks and buries her face in her hands. “I don’t know if things are like that. But what happens if they are?”

“What do you mean?”

“W-well, I’ve been seeing Hayato for months. If things go that way with Jinguji-san, then isn’t that wrong?”

“You are not in a relationship with Hayato,” Tomochika reminds. “So you are not obligated to tell him anything. You know he sleeps with other people the same night, even.”

Haruka buries the sting that reminder brings. “Maybe... But what about Jinguji-san?”

“You should probably tell him you’ve been sexually active before you do anything with him.” Tomochika wonders when she became a high school sex-ed teacher. “He might want to get STI testing done before you two get physical.”

Haruka is quiet.

Tomochika bites her lip and addresses the elephant in the room. “If you want to start something serious with Jinguji, then you should probably end things with Hayato. Or make sure they both know where they stand.”

Haruka’s head whips up. “Of course!” she snaps. The anger on her face vanishes in an instant. “I’m sorry.” Her posture sinks like a soufflé. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”

“Hey,” Tomochika soothes, squeezing her hand. “It’s okay. I know. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

“I would never do to anyone what that man did to me,” Haruka says. Her eyes are hard, but she’s curled in a ball. “Never.”

...

Tokiya ducks under the awning of a bookstore, clutching a hand to his chest. His heart is racing with an edge of panic.

He doesn’t know how, in a city full of millions of people, he has spotted Muse among the crowd. He cannot believe that he’s encountered her at all so far from the district where they meet. 

Does she live in this neighborhood? Does she shop in these very stores? He can’t help wondering. 

Her unusual rosy hair had caught his eye first in the crowd of evening foot traffic. Her cream colored coat— the very one he has stripped her of several times now— cloaked her petite frame. 

She had not seen him. That, at least, he was certain of. 

Steeling himself, Tokiya pokes his head around the corner, tracking her progress across the plaza. 

She stops and stares up at the very building he had been here to see. Ren’s building. Quite literally, it was an inheritance from Ren’s father. A pittance of the lavish estate that was left mostly to Seiichiro, and in smaller part to the second Jinguji son Tokiya has never met. 

Tokiya wonders who she is going to see in this upscale building. She clearly does not live in the towering complex based on the way she keeps staring with her neck craned back to take it in. A friend? A colleague? A... lover? 

He sighs, forcing down the jealousy that he has no right to. She’s a client. Nothing more. Never more. 

He knows Ren is busy tonight. Still, he was curious to see the residence he had taken up since returning to Japan. 

Muse disappears into the steel and glass building. 

Tokiya enters the bookstore. He’ll drown his feelings in the words of someone else tonight. 

...

Ren frowns at his phone. Tokiya has been ignoring him. He knew even before he reached out to Syo for confirmation.

“He’s really busy with his thesis right now,” Syo had explained over drinks last night. They both know it’s an excuse. Ren knows damn well that if Tokiya wanted to see him, they would have met by now.

Ren flips through the photo album. Sirmione, Italy, three years ago. Tokiya slathering on sunscreen to protect his pale skin. Tokiya browsing the market, enjoying a glass of wine and a book on the terrace, standing amongst the sculptures and looking just as much like a piece of art. Scores of photos, most of them candids, though there are a few where Tokiya deigned to pose.

He traces Tokiya’s dimple in one photo. How did it all go wrong?

With a sigh, Ren closes and stows the album.

He reaches for the bottle of wine that he’s come for and returns to his kitchen as he flips the light switch in the cellar. 

The ricotta-stuffed pasta shells are warming on low heat as he awaits his guest in the designer kitchen. 

The intercom buzzes and Ren is at the button in a moment.

“Jinguji speaking,” he says into the microphone.

“Um, this is Nanami. I’m downstairs.” He can hear the nervousness in her voice. He reminds himself to be a gentleman tonight, no matter how adorable he finds her.

“You found your way this time,” he teases. He presses another button, unlocking the system. “Take the smaller elevator and enter the code 0608. It’ll bring you up to my floor. I’ll greet you at the elevator.”

“I’ll be right up, then,” she murmurs.

Ren pulls the salads from the fridge and sets them at the candlelit table. 

He then turns to the private elevator against the opposite wall. He walks to it and waits.

It chimes. The door slides away to reveal Haruka.

Ren’s breath catches. He knows she’s beautiful, but tonight she is radiant.

Her coat is tucked over her arm to reveal a high-necked, pale blue cocktail dress over black tights. Her hair is braided in a crown with just a few strands loose to frame her soft face.

Haruka steps hesitantly out of the elevator, her eyes widening as she drinks in the expansive suite. 

“Jinguji-san, is this the right place?”

Her question shocks a laugh out of him. He approaches and offers to take her coat. “Yes, Little Lamb. Welcome to my home.”

Once her coat is hanging and her kitten heels have been exchanged for house slippers, he leads her across the teakwood floorboards and into his kitchen.

“May I interest you in some wine?”

Haruka blinks up at him. “What kind do you drink?”

“This vintage is a Cabernet Sauvignon,” he says, showing her the bottle. 

“Reds are good,” Haruka murmurs, still gaping at the high ceilings and designer furniture. “Um...”

“Yes?” Ren asks as he pours two glasses of the wine. 

“Is this the penthouse?”

Ren chuckles as he hands her a glass. “Yes,” he says softly, watching her swirl the deep red wine as she inhales its scent. “It’s quite big for one person. Hopefully it’ll feel more like a home soon, once I have more guests over.”

Haruka peers around the large common area, taking in the luxurious furniture and decorations. “There’s not much of you in this space,” she surmises.

Ren is surprised by her accuracy. “I haven’t been back very long. I still have some boxes to unpack.”

“May I ask why you chose this place?” 

Her eyes are different now. He can see her brain working on this puzzle. Ren feels a tug of affection. That look is very similar to someone else’s calculating gaze.

“My father owned this building. He left it to me when he passed.”

Haruka freezes, her eyes softening and her painted lips parting. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Nah, the old jerk never liked me anyway,” he dismisses as they walk to his dining nook. “My older brothers got the lion's share of the estate and the responsibilities— which is fine by me. I was just told not to embarrass the family.”

She seems startled by his frank candor, but she still sits when he pulls out her chair. “So what do you do, Jinguji-san? Besides your news column, of course.”

He flashes her a grin. “I run the entire travel magazine. I wear many hats, my lady. Model, photographer, artistic director.” He takes a long sip of the Cabernet. “What about you?”

“I'm a financial specialist,” she says. “I concentrate in international affairs.”

Ren chuckles. “Somehow, I find that job rather hard to believe for someone as sweet as you. Is that the career you wanted?”

Haruka gives him a forlorn smile. “No. Music is my passion. This was the career my father laid out for me.”

Ren sets down his salad fork. “Music? That suits you better. Do you play?”

She nods around her bite of caprese. When she swallows, she answers. “Piano. My grandmother taught me when I lived with her.”

His smile grows. “Will you play something for me after dinner?”

“Here?” She looks around the living area.

“I have a music room,” he says, gesturing to the doors in his hallway. “I play saxophone, myself. And I have a piano for my— well, for a friend.”

Haruka beams at him, and all he wants in this moment is to live forever under the warmth of that smile. “I’d love to.”


	7. Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tokiya has it bad. He needs to talk to Ren, and soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut and a guest appearance!

Tokiya clutches the sheets as one of his clients presses into him. He gives a low moan the way he knows this man loves.

He feels broad fingers patting his head and twining into his hair.

The man pulls his head back and Tokiya groans. 

“Hayato,” the man breathes. “Fuck, you’re so good.”

“Oh,” Tokiya hisses, biting his lip. “Harder, please.”

The man rests his forehead against Tokiya’s shoulder, breathing heavily. His skin is as cold as ever against Tokiya’s warm body. “That’s it. Beg for me,” he rasps. Their hips smack together, audible even over the classical music. 

Tokiya buries his smirk against the other man’s hair. “Please, Baron,” he chokes. His acting is impeccable, he knows. “Please, please, harder. Faster! Let me feel everything.”

The man shivers, wrapping his hand around Tokiya’s cock and jerking unceremoniously. The man still cums first, slumping against Tokiya. 

Tokiya glances back at him with pleading eyes. This is a game they play, and he always wins. 

“On your back,” the man orders as he pulls out. 

Laying on the rumpled sheets, Tokiya bites his lip and watches his client discard the first condom and reach for a second. 

“I’m not done yet,” the man promises. 

He pins one of Tokiya’s legs to the bed and hooks the other over his shoulder. Years of dance have made Tokiya flexible enough for this.

“Hayato, tell me what you need.”

The man is only half-hard, but Tokiya grins. “You.”

The man grins back and sinks into him again. 

Tokiya moans, arching his back. 

His mind wanders as his client pounds into him. He can’t help but compare every man he is with to the flashes he remembers of that night in Italy. 

It’s dangerous territory, but it often feels safer these days than thinking of Muse. 

Seeing her in public the other night has thrown him off. It broke the spell of anonymity. 

His thoughts are a jumble of want and reproach.

He thinks of Ren kissing him deeply in their drunken haze. He thinks of Muse and the way she shivers when he presses kisses to her shoulder blades. He thinks of the way Ren had blown him like there was nowhere he’d rather be than kneeling between Tokiya’s legs. He thinks of Muse pinning him to the mattress, her cheeks stained scarlet as she sucks on his nipples. 

His mind is swirling with the two when his body shudders and he cums across his stomach with a high gasp.

His client slows. They blink at each other in surprise. He’s never cum this soon into their appointment before. The world drops out from under Tokiya.

The man chuckles. “That’s a new noise. I guess you really did need it tonight.”

Tokiya saves face through virtue of his acting, but his mind reels. He needs to do something about this, and soon.

When his client has gone, Tokiya pulls out his phone and finally texts Ren. They need to sort this out. 

...

Haruka sits at her counter sucking the yogurt off her spoon.

“Earth to Haruka, come in, space cadet,” Tomochika says, waving a hand in front of her face.

Haruka jumps. The spoon slips from her mouth and clatters to the stone counter. “Tomo-chan!”

Her roommate sighs, crossing her arms as she leans against the fridge. “Are you alright? You’ve been zoned out all morning.”

“Sorry. I’m just thinking.”

“So. How was dinner last night? Can the man actually cook?”

A smile pulls at Haruka’s lips. “Yes. He can cook quite well. And he has expensive taste in wine. And he loves music, too.”

Tomochika grins, stepping closer to lean her elbows on the counter. “And?”

“And what?”

“How far did you go?”

Haruka flushes to her roots. “Tomo-chan! We didn’t do anything of the sort.”

Tomochika arches one brow. “Nothing at all?”

Haruka squirms. “He kissed me.”

“I knew it!”

“He’s a good kisser,” Haruka confesses, burying her face in her hands. 

Tomochika pulls Haruka partially out of her seat and into a hug over the counter. “Ah! I’m so proud of you. Going on dates again after all this time.”

Haruka stiffens. Tomochika pulls back to observe her. “What’s wrong?”

“Tomo-chan... I don’t know what to do. I like Ren. I like him a lot. But...”

“But Hayato.”

Haruka nods. Her chest aches. 

A sympathetic hand comes to rest on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to help you with this.”

“I told Ren I’ve been seeing someone physically.” Haruka burrows into her sweater. “He is being very understanding and sweet. He still invited me over tomorrow night. He has a friend who can also play piano, and he thought we might have fun.”

Tomochika squeezes Haruka’s shoulder before grabbing the eggs from the fridge. “I think that’s a good idea. He sounds like a decent guy, other than getting you home so late…Maybe spending more time with him will give you some clarity.”

...

Tokiya watches the floor numbers climb as the elevator rises toward Ren’s penthouse suite. His body protests with waves of anxiety. He’s not sure if his empty stomach makes things better or worse. 

The security code for the elevator is his birthday, and he can’t help wondering if that is a coincidence.

He knows Ren is entertaining tonight, but with work and his thesis meetings, this is the only time their schedules align. Hopefully his guest won’t mind if he steals Ren for a private conversation.

The elevator stops, and Tokiya catches a hint of feminine laughter on the other side of the metal door.

Of course Ren is entertaining a woman tonight. Tokiya doesn’t feel a flash of jealousy. Not at all.

The door opens. Tokiya forces himself out. The entryway is small, a little semicircle for shoes before the step up into the apartment. He steps out of his loafers, leaving them next to a pair of heels that look vaguely familiar. 

He glances around the living room, but Ren and his companion are nowhere in sight. He can’t quite see the kitchen from here, but that seems to be the source of the sound.

He steps into a pair of slippers. “Pardon the intrusion,” he calls, letting Ren know he’s arrived. 

“Icchi! You made it,” Ren says, beaming as he pads over to Tokiya with his arms open wide.

Tokiya panics, managing to half-return the hug at the last second.

“Ren,” he greets.

“Lady,” Ren calls, turning back toward the kitchen. “Come meet my friend, the one and only Ichinose Tokiya.”

Tokiya looks over Ren’s shoulder and feels his world grind to a halt.

Muse.

She stops at the same time, her beautiful amber eyes widening. He can see her lips parting around the vowels of his alias. 

He cuts her off, bowing. “Tokiya. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” With his head ducked, he catches another glimpse of those shoes. Her heels. No wonder he had recognized them. 

Muse blinks at him. Her mouth shuts and she frowns.

Ren doesn’t notice as he slings an arm around her shoulders and drags her closer. “Icchi, I’d like you to meet my precious little lamb, Nanami Haruka.”

Her name. Her real name. Haruka. It feels heavy as Tokiya mouths it silently. 

In an instant, he decides to keep up the charade. “It’s nice to meet you Nanami-san. Ren and I are friends from high school.”

Ren nods. “Icchi here is the main reason I graduated.”

Haruka, temporarily distracted, looks up at Ren with raised brows. “Oh?”

“I was... a problem student.”

Tokiya snorts. “That’s an understatement.”

“Icchi, please. I’m trying to give her a good impression.”

A grin comes unbidden to Tokiya’s lips. “Why bother? You aren’t much of an actor.”

Ren scoffs. “Cheeky.” To Haruka, he says, “Icchi here was the lead in all the school plays. He always beat me fair and square, but it still stung.”

Haruka giggles. It’s that same giggle that plays in Tokiya’s mind on the nights when his insomnia wins. He bites his lip.

“You’re just in time for dinner, Icchi.” Ren waves toward the kitchen. “Come. We’ve got good food and good wine.”

Tokiya wants to protest, but Ren’s eyes are pleading and he gives in. His stomach is empty anyways. 

Haruka keeps glancing at him as they cross to the dining area. She’s not as subtle as she perhaps thinks she is, but he can’t fault her for the shock. He feels like he’s gone through a rinse cycle and come out inside out and upside down.

He stubs his toe on Ren’s sofa, curses, and affirms that this is not, in fact, a fever dream. 

Ren pulls out a chair for Haruka, and another for Tokiya, after they bring the food to the glass tabletop. 

Tokiya slowly lowers himself into the chair across from Haruka. She gives him a strained smile. 

He smiles softly, pretending his world isn’t this unbelievably small. “So, Nanami-san, what do you do, may I ask?”

“I work in banking,” she says as Ren pulls out two wine options.

“Banking? How unexpected. Do you have a specialization?” Tokiya reaches for the pinot noir and fills her glass without thinking. He then pours the merlot for himself and Ren. 

Ren is staring at him, too, now. Tokiya realizes that he shouldn’t know Haruka’s wine preferences. 

Haruka cuts the tension by answering, “I work in international affairs. We are currently rather focused on how the Olympics are impacting the city.”

He always suspected she was an office worker, but he is surprised by her career. He does not doubt she does her job well. It just feels so wrong. Like a star sitting on a shelf instead of lighting the night sky. 

“And what do you do, Ichinose-san?”

Tokiya can hear the challenge on the underside of her words. She knows what he does. He takes a long sip of wine, letting the flavor sit on his tongue. “I am working on my thesis,” he finally answers. “I also work part-time as a studio musician.”

Ren pats Tokiya’s shoulder, reminding both guests of his presence. “That’s right. Icchi can play just about any instrument.” He laughs. “Except saxophone.”

Haruka’s smile is unexpectedly soft as she picks up a piece of the lemon-infused fish Ren has cooked. “Is that what you’re studying? Music?”

“Yes,” he replies, just as softly.

As they all earnestly enjoy the meal, Ren starts to regale Haruka with stories from their high school days. Talking about how he was the school’s heartthrob, and how Tokiya was popular with everyone in spite of himself.

Tokiya chimes in to correct the stories whenever Ren exaggerates to make himself sound better. They’ve been friends for too long for Tokiya not to make jabs when Ren leaves an opening.

Haruka is a gracious listener; her laughter is infectious and the crinkle of her nose makes Tokiya’s heart feel like a caged hummingbird.

Part of Tokiya wants to flee, but seeing Haruka and Ren smiling makes it impossible. He wants to soak up every moment of their warmth and squirrel it away to last this whole bitter winter. 

He forgets what he came here for. He forgets that these two people are the very reason why he has been running ragged and missing sleep. 

He forgets his worries. He lets himself laugh with them. He lets himself have this moment of joy. 

He knows he’ll pay for it soon enough.


	8. Composing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three of them get both closer and farther.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the upload is so late today. My personal life got hectic because a coworker was exposed.

Haruka is laughing so hard her stomach hurts. 

Tokiya is sitting beside her at Ren’s piano. He’s a skilled musician, but she’s a pianist. She plays circles around him as she improvises a duet that he fights to keep up with. 

He grumbles, but Haruka can see that he’s having fun as she leads him in the melody. 

Ren stands at Haruka's side. His smile could eclipse the moon itself as he watches them play a game of cat and mouse on the ivories. 

He and Tokiya are simultaneously singing a drunken— but surprisingly good— rendition of a popular TV commercial jingle as she and Tokiya play a remix of the commercial’s melody.

Her cheeks ache from how happy she is, but she never wants it to stop. 

Tokiya, she is certain, is Hayato. The voice is the same— high and breathy with that rich bittersweet note.

Ren can also sing, she hears. His baritone compliments Tokiya’s voice nicely. His sax hangs from the strap over his torso. Every so often, he treats them to a solo. 

Without thinking, Haruka’s fingers change the melody, trying to find something suitable for their voices.

Tokiya frowns at the keys and watches her to adjust his own playing. “This melody...Are you composing?”

Ren leans down, too. 

Haruka’s fingers freeze on the keys of the baby grand. “Sorry. Listening to you two, this just popped into my head.”

“Don’t apologize,” Tokiya says. “It’s good.”

“Lady, will you play that measure again?”

Hesitantly, she plays for them. 

Both men listen intently. Ren belts out an accompaniment on his saxophone. Tokiya improvises lyrics.

Haruka’s smile returns. She repeats the measure and builds on it. Ren and Tokiya follow her timing with ease, playing and singing on top of the melody she lays down.

A few minutes later, they have the start of a song. 

Ren hurries over to one of his shelves, handing Haruka a pencil and blank music sheets. “We need to write that down.”

He tosses another sheet of paper and a pen at Tokiya. “Write those lyrics, too.”

Haruka looks at Tokiya. He rolls his eyes, but grins. She grins back, and they start scribbling notes and lyrics across the paper.

One hour and another bottle of wine later, they have a rough draft. 

“Did we really just write a song?” Tokiya asks, stretching his wrist. 

“A good one, at that,” Ren affirms.

Haruka hiccups and both men reach for her wine glass. 

“No more for you, Little Lamb,” Ren teases. He’s the most sober of them, clearly.

She tries to pat his arm and instead ends up finding out that his pecs are firm. Oops. “That’s probably for the best,” she admits, her blush topping the alcohol’s glow on her cheeks. 

“This was fun,” Ren says. “You two work well together, just as I hoped.”

They freeze. The warmth evaporates, leaving the winter chill in her bones.

Haruka immediately feels at least 30% more sober. She can see the shift in Tokiya, too. 

Right. This is a problem. Hayato, who is clearly Tokiya, and Ren. She’s kissed them both. She wants to do it again. But with whom? She doesn’t dare ponder it now, lest her lowered inhibitions ruin everything.

Tokiya smiles, but Haruka suspects it’s for show. “Yes, Nanami-san makes for excellent company.”

She turns away to hide her traitorous face. All she can recall is the way she feels under the guidance of his mouth and fingers. 

The old grandfather clock strikes midnight; Haruka jumps at the mournful chimes

Ren kisses the top of her head and gives her an opening. “Lady, as much as I would love to keep you, I think your roommate might hunt me down if you don’t get home soon. She gave me quite the earful the other night.”

Haruka sees something change in Tokiya’s expression. She cannot name it. Relief? Envy?

“Please don’t let me trouble you again. I can get home on my own; it’s just up the street.”

Ren helps her up from the piano bench. She wobbles, far more inebriated than she meant to be. “What kind of gentleman would I be to let you go alone like this?”

She pouts. “But I know you’ve been waiting to see Ichinose-san since you returned. I’ve already overstayed tonight.”

“You’re too sweet.” Ren kisses her cheek. She startles, searching for Tokiya’s gaze.

He is, instead, studying the books of music theory on Ren’s shelves. She feels the absence of his attention keenly.

“Icchi,” Ren begins, “will you wait a few minutes for me?”

Tokiya looks up from a tome on jazz composition. His face gives nothing away. “Yes. I’ll still be here.”

Ren squeezes Haruka’s shoulder. “See. It’s settled, then.”

Haruka clasps her hands and bows to Tokiya. The action almost sends her stumbling, but Ren steadies her. “I had a lovely time tonight. Thank you for playing with me.”

She hears the soft breath of his laugh. He bows to her. “It was my honor to play with someone who can best me on the piano.”

“Will I see you again?” she blurts. 

The corners of his eyes tighten. He seems to measure the words as though he’s weighing a cut of meat. “I’m sure we’ll see more of each other.”

It’s not a promise of anything, but Haruka holds onto it anyway as Ren leads her toward the elevator.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” Ren says as he wraps her scarf around her neck and face. He pulls on his own winter gear and they step into the elevator.

Haruka’s mind starts to clear when they face the brisk December air.

She hooks her arm through Ren’s, pressing to his side for warmth. 

“Cold?”

She nods.

He chuckles, pulling off his knit hat and tugging it low to cover her ears and most of her bangs. Haruka reaches up to touch the fuzzy pom on top. “Oh... soft.”

She doesn’t even notice that Ren has his phone out until she hears a shutter click. “Jinguji-san! Did you just take a photo?” She knows he’s a photographer, but she hardly thinks of herself as a worthy subject.

“Don’t worry, Little Lamb. It’s very flattering. And very cute.”

She pouts, but he only looks at her more adoringly, and suddenly her blush spreads to her covered ears. 

He threads their gloved hands together. “Now, let’s get you home.”

When they arrive at her door minutes later, she pulls Ren down by the collar.

He blinks, but smiles as she closes her eyes and presses her lips to his.

When she pulls back, he’s grinning. His eyes glitter with unrestrained affection. 

“Goodnight,” she whispers, fixing his collar.

He slips his hat back on and winks. “Goodnight, My Lady.”

...

When Ren returns to his apartment, Tokiya is standing by the wall of windows. The neon lights of a nearby billboard cast Tokiya’s face in hues of pink and blue. He looks down at the city as little flurries of snow drift on the wind.

It will all be melted long before morning.

“So. What brought you here tonight?” It’s been weeks of silence. “Why now?”

Tokiya finally turns to acknowledge him.

“It’s not important now,” Tokiya whispers. There’s something jagged underlying the words.

“Icchi...” Ren reaches for him, but Tokiya steps back, just enough. Ren takes the hint and lowers his hand. It stings.

“She’s a nice girl,” Tokiya says.

Ren sighs. So this is how they’re going to play. “She is.”

Tokiya gives him a smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes. His dimple is missing, as is his warmth. All Ren sees in those pale blue eyes is heartache. “Take care of her.”

“Icchi, please. Talk to me.”

“Not tonight.” Tokiya pats his shoulder and slips away.

Ren stands at his windows long after Tokiya leaves. 

He presses his forehead to the icy glass and groans. This is going to be harder than he’d hoped.


	9. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have to get worse before they get better. Tokiya confronts Haruka, and then she confronts her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a minor OC in this chapter because none of the canon characters felt like a right fit for this role.

Tokiya is shocked when Muse returns to him.

She has something on her mind, he can tell that much as she presses him to the bed and kisses him like she’s fighting something.

He kisses back until guilt crushes his paper lungs.

“I can’t do this with you anymore,” Tokiya says, breaking away from the kiss.

Muse— no, this is Haruka, he corrects— blinks at him. Her hair spills over her shoulders and tickles his face. He wants to tuck it back behind her ears, but he doesn’t dare touch her any more than he has already. 

“Hayato?”

“Nanami-san,” he croaks. “Please don’t do this.”

She stiffens. The use of her surname breaks the illusion. She turns away, but not fast enough for him to miss the hurt storming in her eyes.

“You’re with Ren.” He can’t pretend he doesn’t know. Not now. He won’t do this to Ren. “I can’t do this. He’s my friend.”

She stares down at him. Shame twists her face. Her hands are shaking. “We’re not a couple. He knows I’ve been seeing someone like this.”

Tokiya feels irritation spark in his gut. He hates that she is making him voice this. “He’s clearly in love with you, and you clearly have feelings for him, too. Why continue this? Why come back?”

Haruka bites her lip and shakes her head. She won’t answer.

Tokiya sighs. “I won’t interfere. That’s why this—“ he gestures broadly to both of them and the room, “— this can’t go on.”

Haruka’s lips form a line. The warmth that has always burned in her eyes vanishes. Tokiya is caught off-guard by the change. Guilt bubbles up again, almost choking him.

She slips off the bed and refuses to look at him as she dresses. “I see. This was a bad idea. Forgive me.”

He forces himself to stay still when his every nerve screams to comfort her. “This is for the best. I want you— both of you— to be happy.”

Her laugh is hollow. It punches him in the stomach. “If that’s how you really feel.”

Tokiya knows this needs to be done, but he can’t help feeling that it is a horrible blunder. He blames the feeling on his selfish desires.

Still, her coldness strikes every wrong cord in his body like a heavy hand slamming a keyboard.

“Nanami-san,” he can’t help saying.

Her shoulders slump after she pulls on her coat. She glances back at him with the same vacant stare. “Clearly you know so much more about my feelings than I do,” she monotones. “Goodbye, Hayato.” Her voice breaks, and she whips back to the door, but not quite soon enough for him to miss the tears that assault her cheeks. “I won’t trouble you again.”

The door slams behind her. 

Tokiya’s legs give out, and he sits heavily on the edge of the bed.

“This is for the best,” he repeats, trying to make himself believe it.

What would Haruka want with someone like him? He cannot offer her love. Falling for clients is the number one taboo in the Agency. He still needs this job. His studio work alone can’t cover rent and school.

Haruka is successful and sweet and so vibrant that she draws the eye of everyone who looks. She and Ren make a good pair. They’re better off together. Without him.

So why, Tokiya puzzles as he falls back on the sheets, does it feel like his heart has been sucked from his chest. He aches. He feels envy, though he can’t pinpoint whom he is envious of.

Why does every muscle in his body scream to run after her? To hold her? To not give up?

A buzzing noise snaps him out of his wallowing before he can get very far.

He traces the sound to the cell phone sitting on the bedside table. The cell phone, with its floral pink case, most definitely isn’t his.

The screen is lit up, showing an incoming call from an all-too-familiar name.

Without thinking, he scoops the phone up and bolts out the door.

...

Ren sits on his couch. His head is tipped back to stare at his unblemished ceiling. 

They know each other.

The other night, he had played a good host and pretended not to see the clear tension between his guests. It was palpable, though.

Little things came together one brick at a time until there was a road of evidence pointing straight toward that conclusion

The way Tokiya had known which wine she preferred. The way Haruka knew which music Tokiya was inclined toward. The way they played so perfectly together with an implicit trust that he can’t help but envy.

Them knowing each other is both a nightmare and, perhaps, an unexpected blessing.

It’s a mysterious bond that Haruka and Tokiya share. Neither one seems to be quite aware enough of if to suggest an ongoing romantic relation. 

Still, Ren fancies himself an expert on love. He can tell that the two harbor mutual attraction.

But how do they fit together?

He knows Haruka has been active since her divorce. He now suspects that Tokiya has gotten to know her...intimately. 

And yet, it seems they didn’t know each other’s names until he had introduced them. 

What is their connection? And, more importantly, as selfish as it feels, is there room for him in it?

He’s loved Tokiya since they were teens. He loves the dry humor, the soft smile, and the quiet companionship.

The man is just as stubborn as Ren himself, though. If Tokiya won’t talk to him, he might need Syo as a go-between. After three years, Ren refuses to let the silence continue.

Haruka is the unexpected variable. Her creativity, her infectious laughter, and her thoughtfulness stole his heart from that first night under his umbrella. 

He hadn’t meant to fall for anyone new. She just snuck her way into his heart so quickly and quietly that he couldn’t imagine what it was like for her to not be there. Their coffee dates and dinners always left him craving more of her.

Ren sighs, swirling the glass of whiskey in his hand. “I always seem to be drawn to the oblivious ones,” he muses with a bitter chuckle. 

Is the universe kind enough to let him have them both? Or should he prepare for another heartbreak?

He downs the last of his whiskey and dials Haruka’s number. 

It rings, and rings, and rings. He frowns when he gets her voicemail.

A barb of panic stings his heart. It’s not rational to worry, but Haruka is always there when he calls.

“Hey, it’s me. Call me back when you get the chance. Take care, Lady.”

He hangs up. He waits all of fifteen seconds before he dials again. 

He knows she might just be busy. Overtime, a work function, in the shower. Yet, the only thought that crosses his mind is that something has gone wrong.

...

Haruka rubs at her cheeks as she walks through the park. She hates the way her body’s first instinct is to cry. She knew she could never be with Hayato for real. She knew that from the very first night.

She knew. It still hurts.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe she should be with Ren. She likes him a lot. His soothing chuckle, his flirtatious words, his chivalry, his cooking. Anyone would be lucky to be with Ren.

So why, then, does Haya-Tokiya’s insistence cut her? 

Her chest aches. She chokes back a sob as she makes her way back toward the main path.

Staring at the ground just in front of her feet, she doesn’t even notice that she’s not alone until she bumps into someone. Her butt and palms sting from the impact of landing on the concrete.

“Please e-excuse me,” she says, fumbling to her feet.

A thick hand grabs her wrist, yanking her up. “There you are,” says a familiar voice.

Haruka’s eyes widen as she looks up. “No...”

The man smiles, looking genuinely happy to see her. “Hello, my sweet wife.”

She tugs, trying to get free. “What are you doing here?” Haruka demands. “Let me go!”

His grip is just as broad and firm as she remembers. He squeezes her wrist and she yelps. He frowns and relaxes his grip. 

“Why would I let go? I’ve been looking for you.”

Haruka goes still. He’s acting strangely. “Why? How did you even find me?”

He reaches for her cheek. She flinches, though the touch is soft enough to be called a caress. Her stomach revolts against the wrongness of it. 

His frown deepens, dragging his brows down. “You used to love when I touched you like this.” She can finally smell the alcohol on his breath when he leans closer. Potent plum sake.

“I used to love you,” she counters. She puts a hand on his chest. “Hideo. Please let me go; you’re drunk.”

He wraps his arms around her waist. “I don’t want to. I want you to come home.” 

Haruka’s pulse races. Their apartment has long-since been sold. Where does he plan to take her? Panic replaces the blood in her veins. “Hideo, please. Let me go. I don’t want to go with you.”

He drops to his knees, burying his face against her stomach. She’s never seen him like this. Her head whips around, but the park is empty except for the ducks swimming in the pond. 

“Isn’t this what you want? I’m sorry. I’m on my knees begging you. Haruka, how do I fix this?” He is crying now, holding her skirts like a child. 

She feels faint.

“Hideo,” she says, voice distant. “You can’t fix this. You left me.” Tears slip down her paling cheeks, but she refuses to sob. “You left me while I was in the hospital. I can’t. I won’t love you again.”

He looks up at her. The hazel eyes she once loved now hurt her. “I was wrong,” he insists. “I was stupid. I got duped by that woman. Haruka, darling, no other woman will ever be as good to me as you were!”

Haruka steels herself. Everything still feels so far away. Is she getting enough air? It’s winter, so why does she feel like she’s suffering from heat stroke? She forces out the words. The ones she’s thought many times in the last year. “But other people will be better to me than you were.” Some already have been, she thinks quietly.

She puts her small hands over his. “Let go.”

“Haruka...please! I swear I’ll never leave you again.”

“Let go,” she repeats. 

His demeanor shifts. Sorrow and penitence morphing into the anger and judgement she remembers from the end. “Ungrateful,” he growls. “No one is ever good enough for you. Are they? No man can ever satisfy you.”

Haruka swallows. She doesn’t dare correct him, though the sharp words weigh on her tongue. She feels numb. She wants to run. She wants to scream. She can’t move. 

“You are my wife!” Hideo barks at her silence. “You will come home with me.”

She shakes her head. More silent tears escape. “No. I'm not your wife, and I’m not going anywhere with you.” Her head throbs with a migraine.

He raises a hand. She flinches, bracing for impact.

The slap never lands. 

Cautiously, Haruka opens her eyes. She’s not prepared for the sight that greets her.

Hideo looks as stunned as she feels. He stares at his own hand. She notices the shame on his face. His eyes are startlingly sober now.

Hayato is standing there, too, holding Hideo’s wrist. She’s never seen his beautiful features contorted with rage before. 

“Who the hell are you?” Hideo growls, trying to shake the other man off.

“I could ask the same of you.”

“I’m her husband,” Hideo snaps. He won’t look at her now.

“Is that right?” Hayato asks, twisting Hideo’s arm until the other man cries. “I’ll report you for domestic violence, then.”

“Asshole,” Hideo yelps.

Haruka is trembling. Her teeth clack together. She feels so cold. Her lower lip wobbles. A sob escapes.

Two concerned gazes fall on her. She wants to disappear.

She hears her name from them both. 

Before she realizes it, Hayato (Tokiya, a small part of her brains insists) has thrown Hideo aside and has her in his arms. She clings to his jacket and bawls. “I’m scared,” she confesses, shaking so hard that she bites her tongue. “I’m so scared, Hayato.”

He cradles her cheeks in his hands and rests their foreheads together. “Breathe. Haruka, breathe.” She hears an edge of panic in his voice that she can’t understand. “Haruka! Stay with me!”

The stress is too much.

She collapses.


	10. Clarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tokiya can’t run anymore.

A few days later, Tokiya sits in the Shining Agency waiting for a client. Ai said he’d been specially requested by a man under the alias Eros. He tries to prepare.

Instead, his mind keeps going back to Haruka. Muse. 

She had fainted in his arms.

He still feels the panic clawing its way up his throat, much like it had when he’d accompanied her in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

Her roommate, Tomochika, had met him there after he’d dialed the emergency contact on the phone Haruka had left behind.

He’d hesitated, but then he’d called Ren, too.

It was Tomochika who had given them the story.

“Hideo, who you met, is her ex-husband.” Tomochika had been picking at her chipped nails as they sat in the hard, plastic chairs of the waiting room. “They were your typical high school sweethearts until her childhood illness returned and her health took a sharp turn for the worse.”

Ex-husband. The thought still rattles him days later. She is so young to be divorced. It also means that man in the park is the one who had made her cry that first night. The one who had made her feel broken.

“He left her for another woman while she was in recovery.”

That statement had sucked the air from his lungs in the space after Tomochika’s words. It had colored Ren’s face with such great rage and sorrow.

Now, Tokiya regrets letting the man slither away, even if he had been tending to Haruka. 

Sitting on the bed, his mind is still on Haruka, hooked up to an IV. They had kept her asleep to run tests on her heart. A heart that he now knew she had gotten only last year when she’d been on the verge of dying.

He won’t see her anymore. He can’t risk hurting her. 

After that first night at her bedside, he’d left. 

He knows he cannot be what she needs. 

He hopes she is safe. He hopes she forgets about him. He hopes she makes Ren as happy as she made him.

He hears the door to the suite click. Eros has arrived. Tokiya’s acting slides into place. “Welcome,” he says, bowing. “How may I serve you tonight?”

He hears a soft, sad laugh. The door clicks shut. “Hello, Icchi.”

Tokiya’s mask shatters in an instant. He finds himself staring at his oldest friend. The silence is jarring.

They’re fully clothed, but he feels bare under the weight of Ren’s gaze. “Ren....what are you—? How did you—?”

Ren steps closer. “Let’s talk about Italy.”

Right to the point. Tokiya draws himself up, meeting Ren’s eye. “What about it?”

“Why did you leave?”

“Because it was a mistake.”

He can’t be imaging the pain on Ren’s face. “I see.”

“We’re friends, Ren,” he says softly. “We aren’t meant for that.”

Ren is upon him in a second, his palm against the wall by Tokiya’s head. His tawny skin glows in the low light. Tokiya cannot meet his eye. Instead, he stares at Ren’s obsidian earring. 

“Is that what you think we are, Icchi?” Ren is frustrated, that much is plain to see. “You left me without a word.” True. “You ran away.” Perhaps. “And you’ve barely spoken to me these last few years.” Ren slumps, his head brushing Tokiya’s chest. “Do you even know what you did to me?”

“You had feelings for someone then,” Tokiya says instead. “I couldn’t forgive myself for getting in the way, even if we were drunk.”

Ren laughs, rubbing at his eyes. His head tilts up and he presses his lips to Tokiya’s. It’s slow, and soft, and everything he’s dreamed about since their school days. 

Tokiya squawks, pulling away. “Ren! What are you doing?”

“It was you, Genius,” Ren says, cupping Tokiya’s cheek. “You were the one I loved.”

“But...” Tokiya’s head is spinning. He touches his lips. “But you told me you were in love—“

“—With a brilliant, passionate man who I couldn’t live without,” Ren finishes. “That would be you.”

“Oh.” His brow furrows. His heart sinks. “I’m so sorry. It was never my intention to hurt you.” Tokiya reaches for Ren’s hand. “If it’s any consolation, I loved you, too.”

Ren sighs. “We made a real mess, huh?” He squeezes Tokiya’s hand. “I’m not giving you up again, Icchi.”

Tokiya slips his hand free. It hurts. He feels cold and empty. He does it anyway. “Don’t.”

“Don’t?”

“Don’t pursue me. You’ll only hurt Haruka by being with me.” He thinks again of how she looked, so pale she nearly faded into the white sheets. “She deserves to be happy with you. I can’t bear for her to suffer anymore.”

Ren turns, assessing him. “For an academic, you can be really stupid. I would never cheat on either of you.”

“Then what are you saying?” Tokiya challenges.

Ren pokes his forehead. “Sharing. Like big boys.”

It’s so absurd that Tokiya laughs. 

“I love you,” Ren says firmly. Tokiya is caught off-guard and falls silent. “And I love Haruka.”

“That can’t be right.”

“But it is,” says Ren just as stubbornly. “She adores you, Icchi. I saw it with my own eyes. And... I like to think she likes me, too.”

“She does. There’s a heart next to your name in her contacts.”

Ren grins. “You love me, right?”

Tokiya huffs. “I did.”

“Do you still?”

“I don’t know,” Tokiya groans. “Maybe?”

“Well, I’m pretty damn sure you wouldn’t have chased after Haruka the other night if you didn’t love her.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious.” Ren reaches for Tokiya’s hands again. “Icchi... I found out that I can live without you.” At Tokiya’s offense, Ren continues. “I can, but it sucks. It was the worst. I was in a gorgeous country surrounded by history and culture and all I could think about most nights was you. I missed you so much. I missed your laugh and your dimple and your shit taste in movies.”

Tokiya snorts, caught between laughing and crying. “My movie choices are excellent, you heathen.”

Ren arches a brow. “The point is, I don’t want to have to live without you. I don’t want to live without Haruka, either.”

“This sounds like a bad idea.” Tokiya steeples his fingers. “A three-person relationship with my best friend and one of my clients.”

“Maybe it is a bad idea,” Ren says. “But we won’t know unless we try.”

“How did you even find me here?” Tokiya asks instead of answering.

“I asked Syo where to find you.”

“So you know that Haruka and I—“ Tokiya trails off. He doesn’t regret it. 

“I know you have a head start,” Ren teases, elbowing Tokiya’s ribs. “But I still bet I can ‘blow’ you away in bed.”

Tokiya gives up. He buries his face in Ren’s collar and laughs. He laughs until his stomach aches. 

At some point, the laughter is accompanied by tears.

Ren tips Tokiya’s face up and wipes away the tears with one of his ridiculous monogrammed handkerchiefs. 

“Icchi,” he whispers, like a prayer. 

Tokiya wraps his arms behind Ren’s head and leans up to slot their lips together again. “Ren,” he breathes as two pairs of mint-balmed lips move together. “Ren,” he apologizes as a few stray tears wet their cheeks. “Ren,” he praises as Ren pulls him closer by the waist and kisses him back just as hard. 

When they part, Ren keeps his eyes closed and rests their foreheads together. “Don’t leave me again,” he begs.

“I won’t,” Tokiya promises. 

Satisfied, Ren pulls back. “Good. Now come with me,” he says, tugging Tokiya toward the door.

“What? Where are we going?”

“To the hospital,” Ren says. “You want to see her, too, right?”

Tokiya’s heart aches in the best way. This still sounds like a terrible idea, but with Ren beside him, he’s willing to find out. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in a feat of unintended symbolism, I managed to draw each of the three pairing arts pieces in the palette of the third person who isn’t depicted. What do you think?


	11. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys visit Haruka in the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggle sometimes with writing scenes like this, so I hope you enjoy! We’re nearing the end of the story!

Haruka sighs, holding a hand over her chest. She feels a steady pulse there, but even after so many months she doesn’t quite think of it as her own. 

Tomochika is gone for now. She and the lawyer went to file a restraining order against Hideo.

Visiting hours must be over, so Haruka doesn’t know why she still feels disappointed as she stares out the window and at the bustling streets below. 

Her mind is so full that she can’t properly think about anything. Ren, Tokiya, Hideo; the projects that are now on hold at work, and a song that has started to form in the back of her mind. It’s too much. 

Tokiya had come to her rescue. He’d brought her here. 

She knows from Tomochika that he had sat in the empty armchair straight through the first night. Yet he was long gone when she woke. It stings in a way she can’t quite name. 

Sighing, Haruka plucks the petals off a thornless red rose from the bouquet Ren left. For a moment, she considers playing “he loves me; he loves me not.” She berates herself and drops the flower on her tray.

She hears a knock.

“Hello, Lady. I’m sorry I was gone for so long.”

Her head whips toward the door. Ren is standing there in his usual flattering streetwear. His golden hair is tied back with a red ribbon that matches his sweater. She pulls the blanket up to cover her shabby hospital gown. “Jinguji-san! How are you here so late?”

He winks. “I got my brother to pull a few strings.”

She gapes. What kind of power must his brother wield? “B-but what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to check on you. And—“ Ren reaches for something she can’t see out in the hallway—“I brought a visitor.”

Her breath catches when she spots him.

“Haya— Ichinose-san.”

Tokiya is lacking his usual confidence, but that doesn’t prevent him from approaching. When he’s a few feet from her bed, he stops. His eyes suggest he wants to come closer. He clears his throat. “How are you?”

“I’m alright because of you.” She extends a hand. “Thank you.” Her voice wavers. “I’m sorry you had to witness that scene. And I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. 

He hesitates, but takes her hand and threads his fingers through hers. “You are worth all the trouble in the world.” She hears the honesty in his words. It gives her a dangerous sense of hope.

She smiles and tugs him closer until he sits on the edge of the bed next to her. Perhaps the medication is making her bolder.

Ren closes the door behind him and settles in the chair beside them.

“Did I miss any updates?” Ren asks.

Haruka squeezes Tokiya’s shaking hand. So he is still worried about her. “They’re going to discharge me tomorrow afternoon. The scans all came back clear.”

“Thank god,” Tokiya breathes, leaning his forehead against their linked hands. 

Haruka considers, but she reaches for his face, tracing his sharp cheekbones. “Ichinose-san.” His pale eyes meet hers. “I’m sorry. I broke the rules of the Agency. I didn’t mean to, but I fell in love with you.” 

One corner of his mouth curves up in a wry smile.

Haruka continues, forcing the words out. “But... I also love Jinguji-san.”

He laughs softly and kisses her hand. “I thought that might be the case.”

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“Don’t be.” He strokes her hair. “Ren helped me realize that we love you, too.”

“W-what?” She can feel the blush on her face.

“Nanami-san, I’m just as guilty of breaking the rules.” He offers a conspiratorial smile. “I’ve had feelings for you for months. To be candid, you have been on my mind since the very first night.”

Haruka grimaces. “The first night? When I cried?”

He huffs. “I found that odd, but the crying isn’t what drew me to you.” He strokes her hand. “Your earnestness and your smile are what did the trick.”

“Oh.” She pulls the blanket a little higher, wishing her cheeks would cool.

“And you already know I’m crazy about you, Little Lamb,” Ren says. He catches Haruka’s eye and smiles. “After hearing about your ex, I won’t blame you if you want to avoid relationships for now. But if, or when, you want us, we’re a two-for-one deal, and we’re all yours.”

“You two made up?” Haruka’s voice is tinged with joy and relief. Both men are taken aback.

“How did you—?”

“Did you tell her about us?” Tokiya asks, turning to Ren.

Ren, looking equally bewildered, shakes his head.

Haruka hides a sheepish smile behind her hand. “I didn’t mean to pry...I could feel it that night when we wrote the song. I could hear that you two have history.”

“You could hear it?” Tokiya questions.

She nods. “In your harmonies. Without saying anything, you would be perfectly in sync, even when we were creating a new song.” Her cheeks are burning by the end of the explanation. “Sorry, that’s weird, isn’t it?”

“I happen to like a little weird,” Ren assures. “What a mysterious lady we’ve fallen for, right, Icchi?”

Tokiya chuckles. “I can’t imagine her any other way.”

Haruka ignores the fact that she’s still in a hospital gown. She ignores everything but these two, sweet, gorgeous men beside her.

“Are we really doing this?” she asks.

Ren places his hand over hers and Tokiya’s. “We really want to try.”

She looks to Tokiya. His smile would weaken her knees if she was standing. “Together.”

“Together,” she echoes. Haruka draws a steadying breath. She leans toward Ren first. He meets her kiss halfway. “I love you,” she says, voice shaking. “I want you.”

“I’m yours,” he replies, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He grins and nudges her toward Tokiya.

“May I kiss you?” she asks. It’s a mirror of their first night together.

Tokiya nods, biting his lip to suppress the grin that has made his dimple appear in full-force.

Haruka pulls him down to her lips. 

She feels him sigh happily into her mouth. 

Her heart— for surely it is hers now, being so full of them— skips a beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last main chapter! The only thing left is the grand, smutty epilogue! Thank you guys for reading this far!


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The real smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for joining me on this journey! I hope you enjoy the smut. Side effects may include an urge to buy lingerie (as I and my beta both did after writing/reading this).

—January—

Tokiya wraps up his meeting with Ai and the Agency’s president. 

It’s been two weeks since he gave his notice to the boss. It’s been a week since President Saotome asked him about Muse.

“Is she worth it?”

“She’s worth trying for,” he’d replied.

The charismatic president is disappointed to lose Tokiya, that much is written in the lines under his eyes. “Mr. Ichinose,” he says around his steepled fingers, “love is a great and terrible thing. I hope yours is great, and I hope that the terrible times are fleeting.”

Tokiya bows to Saotome for the last time. “Thank you. As do I.” He bows, then, to Ai. “I wish you both well. Thank you for my time in your employ.”

Ai hands him an envelope. “Your accounts are settled. You will be missed. Good luck, Hayato.”

Tokiya gives a wry grin. “Thank you, and goodbye.”

He makes his way to the lockers and gathers the last of his work things in a backpack.

Reiji is waiting for him near the staff door, the one Tokiya had been eavesdropping behind the night he met Haruka. 

Reiji’s grinning as he slings an arm around Tokiya. “I’m gonna miss you, Haya.”

“Likewise,” Tokiya admits, allowing his hair to be ruffled.

“So she stole your heart, after all,” Reiji teases.

“Yes. Rather easily,” Tokiya answers. A fond smile stretches across his lips. 

“Eros and Muse,” Reiji says. “Ai-Ai always names them well. I’m sure your life will be filled with love and song.”

“I think it just might be.” Tokiya closes his locker for the last time. His clients have all been informed. This chapter of his life is coming to a close. It’s bittersweet, but he’s happy.

Tokiya is ready for new things. His graduation looms just ahead, and a new job teaching awaits. 

He wraps the scarf around his neck and bows to Reiji.

“I appreciate my time working alongside you.”

Reiji gives him that lopsided smile. “Don’t make me cry, Kid.” Reiji wipes at his eyes. “Remember, if you ever want a fourth person in bed, I’m happy to lend you my services.”

Tokiya snorts. “I think three people is plenty, but I’ll keep you in mind.”

Reiji claps him on the shoulder. “Take care, Hayato.”

Tokiya smiles back at Reiji as he reaches for the door handle. “You, too. And... it’s Tokiya, by the way.”

—February—

Haruka hugs Tomochika tight. “I’m just up the street,” she comforts.

“I know, but the apartment is going to be so lonely now. I’m going to miss your cooking, too.”

Ren walks past carrying another of Haruka’s boxes. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner anytime. It would be a crime to monopolize my Lady’s cooking, after all.” He winks as he disappears into Haruka’s new room. 

“Plus you can use the many amenities in this building whenever you please,” Tokiya adds, slipping an access card to Tomochika before lifting another crate of his books. 

When both men are out of earshot, Tomochika leans in. “I’m really happy for you, but if they ever cause any trouble, let me know and I will end them.”

Haruka pulls her into another hug. “I’m so lucky to have a friend like you, Tomo-chan!”

“Of course you are,” Tomochika teases, flipping her hair. She sighs. “I’ll let you get settled in for the night.” She steals another hug from Haruka before stepping back and grabbing her black and white coat. “Call me for anything. And don’t you dare be late to lunch this weekend, okay?”

Haruka smiles, waving as the elevator doors close. “See you soon.”

Carrying the last of her boxes to her new bedroom, Haruka’s smile grows. Ren is sitting on her floor in front of her boxes as he arranges them by content. She sets her last box down and wraps her arms around his shoulders from behind. 

“Hello, Little Lamb.” Ren leans back to kiss her cheek. Haruka plays with the loose strands of hair that stick out from his little bun. 

“Hello,” she replies, nuzzling against him.

A knock comes at the door. They turn to find their boyfriend leaning against the frame with a soft smile. “Is there room for me over there?”

“Yep, get in here, Icchi.” Ren extends an arm. 

Tokiya, in his paint-splattered skinny jeans, plops down on Ren’s other side. 

Ren holds them both tight. “Mmm. This is nice. A perpetual sleepover. No more sending you two home at night.”

Haruka giggles.

“Are we kids now?” Tokiya mumbles against Ren’s neck.

Ren barks a laugh and kisses Tokiya’s mussed hair. “No. In fact, I was rather hoping for some adult time tonight.”

“They came in?” Tokiya asks.

Ren pulls out three envelopes from his back pocket. “The results.”

He hands the labeled envelopes to Haruka and Tokiya before opening his own.

“All clear,” he says. Not surprising, given how little sexual contact he’s had as of late.

Haruka holds hers up. “Mine is clear as well.”

Tokiya skims his page and beams. “Clear. No STIs.”

Ren grins. “This feels like an early birthday present for me.”

“Well, then we’d better treat the birthday boy, right, Love?” Tokiya asks, meeting Haruka’s amber gaze over Ren’s shoulder.

She runs her hands up Ren’s chest, feeling his muscles beneath the cotton of his tee. “We should. But, if it’s alright, I’d like to shower first. After moving all those boxes I want to rinse off.”

Tokiya’s stomach growls before he can voice his thoughts.

Ren snickers. “Okay. Okay. Showers, dinner, and then we can finally spend our first night together.”

“Deal.”

...

Two hours later, Ren sits in the master bedroom, waiting for his partners. He hopes his mattress can accommodate them all.

Ren hears Haruka’s giggles out in the hall. 

The two of them are cute to think they can keep secrets from him. He knows they got new underwear for this very occasion. 

Freshly showered and dried, Ren has donned his own new underwear: a pair of deep orange briefs with embroidered rose details. He is all about elegance, after all.

Tokiya enters the room first. His hair is freshly dried, and it looks very soft without the usual styler in it. Ren can’t wait to run his fingers through those dark strands. 

Dropping his robe, Tokiya reveals a pair of sheer, black lace boxers. 

Ren’s mouth waters. His own underwear tent.

Tokiya’s smirk is wicked and confident. Cheeky.

Ren is pinned in place by Tokiya’s gaze as his boyfriend reaches toward the hall.

Haruka takes Tokiya’s hand and steps into the room. Her cheeks and ears are pink. Ren swallows again.

She is wearing white lace. Her ample cleavage protests against its lovely confines. Her legs are clad in matching stockings that lead to a garter and panty set. 

She is gorgeous. Ren can’t wait to strip her. 

Grinning, Ren crooks his finger. “Come here.”

They both step closer to him.

He settles one hand on the lace bow at Haruka’s hip and the other on the band of Tokiya’s boxers. “Aren’t you two sweet. Doing all this for me.” He plays with the little lace bow on her panties as his mouth kisses a trail down Tokiya’s sternum.

His partners shiver. 

He switches, kissing up from Haruka’s belly button to the edge of her bra as he cups Tokiya’s tenting boxers.

Haruka gasps. Tokiya moans. Ren feels high on them.

He nuzzles Haruka’s cleavage, pressing silky kisses to her skin. He takes extra care to kiss the edges of her scar. He tries to impart his gratitude to the heart that beats below. She strokes his head.

Haruka smells like vanilla and sugar. He could eat her up.

He kisses the underside of her chin before leaning away. 

He settles both hands on Tokiya’s hips, letting his fingers sink in. He’s missed this feeling. He drags his thumbs across Tokiya’s sharp hipbones. “Gorgeous.” 

Haruka sits beside him, watching as he teases their boyfriend. 

Ren’s hands wander to squeeze Tokiya’s ass. 

Tokiya blushes. “Right to the point, hm?”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna savor you.”

Ren hooks his fingers in the waistband of Tokiya’s boxers. He holds Tokiya’s gaze as he slips them down those toned legs.

Tokiya steps out of the underwear and kneels on the edge of the bed between Ren’s thighs.

He cradles Ren’s face in both hands as he brings their lips together. Ren moans as Tokiya’s knee brushes his clothed erection. He hears Haruka’s soft laugh, and then he feels her softer lips trailing up the side of his neck.

These two... he chuckles into Tokiya’s mouth. When they break for air, Tokiya’s smirk is cocky. 

“Icchi, darling, lay down for me.”

Tokiya leans over Ren’s shoulder and kisses Haruka before obeying. Ren watches the little trail of spit between his partners. He narrows his eyes. Tokiya’s smirk grows as he settles on the bed.

Ren turns, reaching for Haruka’s hand as he steals her lips. She tastes of sugarplum from her lip balm.

With his free hand, he strokes her side. She guides his hand up until he is cupping her breast. He can feel her nipple hardening as he pinches it through the thin lace. 

She moans. He feels her body arch toward him. “Stunning,” he breathes, his voice heavy with lust and reverence.

He guides her to stand. His fingers take their time unclipping her stockings from the garter belt. He hooks the lace edge of her panties with his thumbs. 

He drags his fingertips across her soft thighs as he pulls her panties down. Haruka shivers and steps out of them. She nudges the lace underwear on top of Tokiya’s discarded boxers. 

“Perfect,” Ren says after clipping her stockings again. He turns back to Tokiya. 

The man is propped on his elbows, watching with unconcealed affection.

“Do you two have a safe word?” Ren wonders as he squeezes Tokiya’s ankle. 

Tokiya laughs. “I think you might be overestimating how kinky Haruka is.”

“We just say ‘hold on’ or ‘stop,’” she explains.

“Got it. Anything I should know before we start?”

“I don’t like choking,” Haruka says firmly. “Ah, not that Tokiya ever did something like that!”

Ren will unpack that later. “Anything else?” he prompts instead. 

“She doesn’t like direct contact on her clit. So be gentle.”

“And what about you, darling?”

Tokiya snorts. “My thresholds are pretty high. I’ll let you know if you ever get near them.”

“He’s ticklish,” Haruka offers. 

Ren laughs, hiding his face behind his arm. “You two are so cute. Jeez. I can’t take it.”

“Who are you calling cute?” Tokiya grumbles, shoving at Ren with his foot.

Ren catches the foot and tugs. Tokiya yelps as Ren drags him closer to the end of the bed. “You’re adorable. And handsome. And sexy, Icchi.” He punctuates his words with kisses from Tokiya’s knee to his hip. 

Tokiya crosses his arms and huffs.

Haruka leans down to kiss his nose. It easily chases away his irritated facade.

“Ah, damn you both,” Tokiya mutters fondly. 

“Lady, why don’t you give his smart mouth something productive to work on, hm?”

She glances down at their partner.

Tokiya hooks a finger behind the strap of her garter belt. He lets it snap gently against her thigh. “Come here, Love.”

She kisses Ren, soft but brief, before moving to settle herself above Tokiya’s waiting mouth.

Ren watches as Tokiya pulls her down. He sees Haruka shiver. He hears her soft moan pierce the air. 

He trusts Tokiya’s talented tongue to occupy Haruka for now.

When he can drag his attention away from her beautifully flushed face, he turns back to Tokiya’s erection. His own strains at his underwear, but he will wait. 

Ren settles between Tokiya’s thighs. He runs his short nails across the smooth skin, unable to suppress his glee when Tokiya shudders.

He teases at the dark thatch of trimmed hair at the base of Tokiya’s cock. Tokiya’s hips arch up the tiniest bit. 

Ren lowers his mouth. His tongue darts out, swiping across the head. Tokiya’s moan comes muffled by Haruka’s body. She, in turn, gasps.

Ren threads his fingers through hers where they lay sprawled on Tokiya’s chest.

Setting to work, Ren takes half of Tokiya’s cock into his mouth. Tokiya certainly has length going for him. Ren’s head bobs; he lets his saliva slick the warm, soft skin.

Tokiya tastes like salt and clean skin. Ren presses his tongue flat and drags it across the underside. A bit of precum hits his tongue.

Ren laughs and starts his ministrations in earnest.

He has to hold Tokiya’s hips down with his elbows as he deepthroats. He can feel Tokiya writhing and moaning. One of Tokiya’s hands threads its way into Ren’s hair. 

He holds Ren there. Ren feels his gag reflex, but he’s trained it enough to handle this. He needs this almost as much as Tokiya wants it. 

Ren is almost startled when Haruka’s hand squeezes his and she cries out, trembling with orgasm.

Tokiya follows, moments later as he tries to pull Ren away. 

How considerate. Ren squeezes his wrist and swallows every drop. 

When he sits up and wipes his mouth on his arm, his lovers both look delightfully wrecked. He licks up the wetness on Tokiya’s lips. “Delicious.”

Tokiya rolls his eyes and pinches Ren’s cheek. “You still have a dirty mouth.”

Ren turns and kisses Tokiya’s wrist. “Absolutely filthy,” he agrees.

Haruka giggles. Ren throws an arm around her waist and drags her closer so he can hold them both. 

She gives Ren a playful smile. Before he understands it, she has hooked her leg over his hip and grinds herself down on his tented underwear. 

Ren groans, burying his face against Tokiya’s clavicle as his hips cant toward her heat. “Fuck.”

Tokiya tweaks one of Ren’s nipples. “Don’t underestimate her.”

“Mnn,” is all Ren can utter as Haruka rocks herself against him. 

Haruka and Tokiya get him on his back. Tokiya pins his wrists while Haruka straddles his hips. 

“You planned this,” he accuses.

“Perhaps,” Tokiya murmurs, nibbling at Ren’s ear. “We hope you enjoy it.”

Ren chuckles, surrendering himself to their whims. “By all means.” 

Tokiya kisses Ren. His tongue, still sweet with Haruka’s taste, slides against Ren’s lower lip. Ren’s mouth parts for him. 

Their years apart have made Tokiya an expert in pleasure. He effortlessly leads the kiss, crashing into Ren like waves breaking on a dawn shore. Ren feels alit with the warmth of a sunrise. 

He feels Haruka working his rose-patterned underwear off. He lifts his hips to aid her goals. 

He feels her cold, slim hand wrap around him. He feels a surge of base pride when her fingertips don’t quite touch. 

Her nails graze his sensitive skin, and he can’t help shivering. He feels Tokiya’s grin against his mouth.

When Haruka’s hand wraps around him again, it’s slick with lube. She starts low, working her way up and down so slowly he groans in frustration.

Tokiya’s fingers tweak his nipple in scolding.

Before Ren can answer, he jolts.

Haruka’s warm mouth envelopes him.

She makes no attempt to take all of him, but her hand moves faster on the base, more than making up for it. 

Ren whines. This time, it’s Tokiya’s hands holding his hips in place. 

Tokiya breaks the kiss to better hold Ren down. 

Ren is certain he looks a mess. A sexy one, for sure, but more groans and pleas escape his newly-unoccupied mouth.

“Fuck. Fuck, Lady, please.” He bites his lip as her tongue works across the slit. “Fuckfuckfuck... Ohh....”

Tokiya is stroking Haruka’s head. He grins at Ren as he whispers low things in her ear.

Tokiya’s hand joins Haruka’s, and Ren’s hips buck against their hold. “I’m close,” he gasps. He feels strands of hair starting to stick to his warm skin. He’s aching, building, pleading. 

He crashes over the edge. 

As he recovers, Haruka and Tokiya cuddle against his chest. He feels the weight of their heads. He leans down to kiss their hair. He chuckles and holds them closer. “So, you two have a definite advantage, but don’t count me out just yet.”

Haruka drags her nails across his ribs. “And why would we count you out?”

“The night is young,” Tokiya agrees. He kisses Ren’s neck and sucks at a patch of skin. 

“I have work on Monday,” Ren warns. 

Tokiya smiles and sucks lower, where he knows Ren’s shirt will hide the evidence. 

Haruka appears content to snuggle against Ren’s chest and catch her breath. He hadn’t expected her to swallow. It seems she continues to surprise him. 

Ren rubs circles on her back, his fingers edging toward the band of her bra. 

It takes two tries, but he unclasps it without too much trouble. 

Haruka presses against his side as he strokes her shoulder blades. He hears a little moan from her and he grins. 

“Ren,” she says around a gasp.

“I can’t wait to touch you more,” he says, teasing that same spot. An idea comes to him.

“Icchi?”

“Hmm?” Tokiya releases the bruised patch of skin and kisses it to soothe the area. 

“I want you on top tonight.”

“Oh.” He arches a brow, but he’s grinning. “A reversal of Italy.”

“I’ve been waiting years to feel you, baby. I want it all tonight.” Ren squeezes Haruka’s hip. “Besides, I haven’t gotten a chance to enjoy our Lady yet.”

“Oh...” Haruka’s blush is precious.

Tokiya laughs, sitting up. “You won’t last long like that.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Call it a prediction.”

Ren narrows his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

Haruka snickers, breaking the tension. Both men blush. 

“Lady,” Ren whines. “Don’t laugh at us.”

She slips the straps of her bra down, baring her hard nipples to his greedy eyes. “Sorry,” her mouth says. “Not particularly,” say her twinkling eyes.

His hands come up to cup her soft breasts. They spill between his fingers as he thumbs her peaked nipples. 

“Ren,” Haruka moans, breathy and melodic. In that moment, Ren comes to understand how sirens drown so many sailors. He would gladly throw himself into a churning ocean to hear more of that sweet sound. 

The three of them shift. 

Haruka lays on her back in the center of the mattress. Ren accepts the condom Tokiya offers and sets it by his knees. Ren traces her core with his fingertips, taking in every roll of her hips and arch of her back. 

Mindful of Tokiya’s earlier words, he never gets too close to her clit, instead teasing above it and watching her teeth sink into her lip. “Please,” she begs.

He slips one finger into her, mapping out the enveloping warmth. Her hips shudder and he slips a second finger in to join the first. 

Her moans get him hard again. Based on Tokiya’s airy sigh, he’s just as responsive to her. 

Ren sets a slow, gentle pace with his hand, letting Haruka warm up as Tokiya begins to prep him.

He’s done some self-exploration, but someone else parting his cheeks is mildly disconcerting. 

“Ready to begin?” Tokiya asks, nuzzling his ear.

“I want you so bad, Icchi,” he groans. “Touch me already.”

So he does.

Ren feels the press of one silicone-slick finger and he sighs, relaxing into the sensation.

Tokiya is talented with his fingers, and he damn-well knows it. Ren doesn’t need to see his face to know that Tokiya’s got a Cheshire grin as he crooks his long finger inside Ren.

“More,” he grunts.

Tokiya obliges, slipping a second finger in beside the first. 

Ren shivers. “Oh, fuck, baby, yes.”

“That’s it,” Tokiya murmurs. “Relax for me... good, good.”

Ren can barely concentrate on Haruka, but her moans demand his shattered attention. He lowers his head, kissing her hips and her red curls and her clit as Tokiya rubs his prostate. 

“Icchi,” he gasps. “Fuck me already.”

He hears a snort behind him. “Very well, but don’t neglect Haruka.”

Ren flicks her clit with the very tip of his tongue, making her hips buck. “I would never.” 

Tokiya pulls away and Ren sits up to kiss his way up Haruka’s stomach and breasts. “Lady,” he murmurs, cupping her face in his hand. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes,” she whispers, still shivering around the fingers of his right hand as they curl against her walls. “Ren, please...”

“I love you,” he promises. He kisses the faint freckles across her nose. He kisses each eyelid. “I want you.”

“So take me,” she pleads.

Ren withdraws and stretches his hand, dons the condom, and watches her lidded gaze for any hesitation. Her amber eyes are a deep copper in the light of his lamp. He drags the tip across her labia, teasing and slow. 

“Ren,” she almost growls.

He smiles and presses in. 

She’s wet. She’s so wet and hot as she stretches to accommodate all he offers. They moan together. He’s dreamed of this moment in the months since they met. Reality tops his wet dreams with ease.

“Ren!” Her arms wind around his neck. She’s an undertow, pulling him down to drown against her lips. He slips his arms around her waist, holding her closer as their hips meet. “Mmm!”

Tokiya kisses his back and drags his nose against the muscles there. “Ren,” he breathes. 

Ren reaches back with one hand to squeeze Tokiya’s hip. He can feel the cold lube and latex.

Taking the hint, Tokiya holds Ren’s hips and thrusts in slowly.

Breaking the kiss, Ren buries his face against Haruka’s neck. “Oh, fuck, Icchi.”

“You good?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He takes a deep breath, relaxing as Tokiya stretches him open. “Ah, little slower.”

“Of course.” Tokiya slows, moving one hand to stroke Ren’s stomach. 

After a minute, Tokiya’s fully inside him. Ren breathes out through his nose. 

“Move,” he groans.

Tokiya pulls back and rocks their hips together. The motion pushes him further into Haruka. Ren hisses. “Yes. Keep going.”

Ren quickly catches onto the rhythm of Tokiya’s hips. He moves with him, maximizing the impact as he, in turn, presses Haruka into his mattress.

Haruka drags her nails down his back. “Ren!”

He caresses her cheek. “Alright?”

She nods and gasps. “Good.”

Quickly, he realizes that Tokiya is right; he can’t last too long with Tokiya’s cock rubbing his prostate and Haruka’s walls squeezing him tight. It’s overwhelming in all the best ways.

Still, Ren prides himself on being stubborn. He’ll make a mess of them before he gives in. 

“Fuck, Icchi, you’re so good, babe,” he groans. 

He feels Tokiya shiver.

“You’re so- oh! So big. I can feel everything when you’re fucking me like this.”

Tokiya nips his ear. “What are you doing?”

“Teasing you,” Ren retorts with a groan. He pants. “Is it working?”

“Too well,” Tokiya admits, his thrusts growing harder. 

Ren whines, burying his face against Haruka’s breasts. 

He feels her stroking his hair. If she’s that composed, he needs to give her more attention.

Tilting his head, he wraps his lips around her nipple and rolls his tongue over it. 

She squeaks, clenching around him until he sees stars. Fuck. He really can’t last long. But he’s not done yet.

He laves his tongue over the nub, sucking on it as she clings to him and gasps. “Ren! Oh!... Hah!”

Every nerve in his body trembles. He feels Tokiya against his back. He feels Haruka against his front. 

Haruka’s cries come out muffled and Ren realizes that the two of them are kissing. It’s so unexpected that he chuckles as he continues to worship her breasts.

Tokiya leads the kiss and Haruka gasps into his mouth. 

Ren, sandwiched between them, nips at her nipple. 

Haruka moans again. This time, the sound is low and visceral. He feels it through her chest.

Everything is too much. Tokiya’s stamina is more than he can take. Haruka pets his hair. “Go on,” she soothes. “You’re so good, Ren.”

“Cum for us,” Tokiya murmurs, licking the shell of Ren’s ear. 

He can’t take any more.

So he obeys. Ren pulls away from Haruka’s breast. He grits his teeth as he falls apart cradled between them.

When waves of pleasure calm, he is aware of Tokiya and Haruka stroking his chest and back. He’s glad their hips are still. He can’t take any more stimulation.

“Wow...” he breathes with a wry laugh. “You were right, Icchi.”

Tokiya kisses his neck. “I told you so.” 

Ren swats at him.

“Still, you lasted longer than I expected.”

“Mn... but you two aren’t done.”

Haruka smiles, tracing his abs. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Do you want to watch?” Tokiya asks as he pulls out.

“Fuck, yes,” Ren says as he follows suit, tying and discarding the condom. “Is that alright with you, Little Lamb?”

“Please, do,” she says despite the blush that stains her cheeks and ears.

Tokiya rolls on a fresh condom once Ren is propped on the pillows.

“How do you want it, Love?” Tokiya asks, settling his hands on her hips like they belong there.

Haruka’s grin is playful. Ren almost envies the ease they have with each other; he knows he’ll get there soon enough.

“Like this,” she says, so they’re both on their knees facing Ren.

Haruka reaches back and guides Tokiya into her.

He groans, one hand anchored to her hip, just under that white lace belt, and the other cupping her breast as their bodies come together.

Haruka gasps, arching her back as her head falls onto Tokiya’s shoulder. 

Ren can see everything from this angle. It is cruel, and teasing, and the sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed. 

He watches Tokiya plunge deeper into Haruka with every thrust. Haruka’s moans perfume the air. Ren bemoans the fact that he doesn’t have the energy for a third round.

Still, this private show is going to be a wonderful reference on the nights when work calls him out of the country. He takes in everything he can.

Haruka has one hand behind her to hold Tokiya’s head close so they can kiss as their hips crash together.

Tokiya slips a hand down to rub above her clit. His hand is slow and gentle in contrast to the tempo of their hips.

“Tokiya!” Haruka gasps. “Ah, harder...”

Ren bites back a groan. They’re so good.

He can see them growing sloppy as they approach the end. Their mouths miss more than kiss. They’re both breathing hard. 

Haruka is begging and gasping. Tokiya’s forehead is beaded with sweat. 

Ren can see it. Building, boiling, racing. 

Tokiya goes first, moaning high and clear as he clings to Haruka. He’s beautiful and wrecked and Ren tattoos that flushed, satisfied face across his heart. 

Still, Tokiya doesn’t slow until his fingers bring Haruka over the edge. She trembles and cries out, slumping forward until Tokiya holds her up.

Haruka is flushed and gasping for air, and to Ren she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

The two of them are still for a long moment, simply catching their breath and waiting out the aftershocks. 

Ren gives a low whistle. “That was quite a show.”

Haruka sweet giggles escape first. Tokiya’s velvet laugh follows. 

When they separate, they crawl to Ren who peppers them both with kisses.

“Best birthday present so far,” he announces as he curls up on Tokiya’s chest.

“Good,” Tokiya says, “because we aren’t doing it again until your next birthday.”

“Icchi, you’ve gotta be kidding me!” Ren whines.

Tokiya snorts and starts laughing again. “Just teasing. As if we could keep our hands to ourselves that long.”

Haruka lies on Tokiya’s other side. “Well, my birthday isn’t far either,” she muses.

“That’s right. Our little spring baby,” Ren purrs. “We’ll be sure to spoil you rotten.”

“Only the best,” Tokiya agrees, running his hands over her lace garter belt. 

Haruka hugs them both tight. “I love you.”

“We love you, too,” Ren says easily. 

Tokiya nuzzles her nose. “Most ardently.”

That night, Tokiya falls asleep first, nestled between his loves. 

Haruka and Ren share a gentle smile before sleep claims her, too.

As Ren tucks the blankets over the three of them, he can’t help thinking that their story has only just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone reading this so much! I hope your enjoyed this story, and I hope you guys stay tuned for future smut. I could be convinced to write a prequel about what happened in Italy...
> 
> Thank you so much to Vena for prompting this whole story. I took the request and ran at high speeds. I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I loved writing it!
> 
> Shout out to jingucchislippers for your lovely comments as I posted this fic. I love your stuff. 
> 
> P.S. the last image is called Hearts Made Whole.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Please leave a comment to let me know if you had a favorite line or scene!


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